Protect and Survive & Minor Characters: Side Trips
by RowenaR
Summary: Cut scenes, side stories, tags and codas to my Protect and Survive series - yes, it's grown that big. #23 A little glimpse into what SG10's been up to during the first SGA season. Tag to Letters From Pegasus, yes, massive Minor Characters spoilers. Proceed with caution.
1. Four Times Rodney McKay didn't say

**Author:** RowenaR

**Rating:** K+

**Category:** General

**Disclaimer:** Stargate belongs to Gekko and… all those other people making money with it. Anyway, I don't. Honestly. So – I don't own, you don't sue. Deal?

**Summary:** Cut scenes, side stories, tags and codas to my _Protect and Survive_ series - yes, it's grown that big ;)

**A/N:** So... since I realized that the _Protect and Survive_ verse grew just a little bit too big to concentrate just on the multi-chapter stories, I decided to create a place where I can put all the bunnies that don't fit the main multi-chapters or highlight different aspects of the verse. We'll start with one of the two stories I wrote for my beta **mac**'s birthday (and which is also my first Five Things ever published... whee!). Reading it will require some attention because you know, Rodney McKay isn't the best with names and this is from his perspective (and man, am I glad that he and I won't have anything to with each other for a long, long time... honestly, that guy is _exhausting_). It takes place between _Building Bridges_ and _Show The World_ and uh... language warning (I think I should just slab that on every story I write...).

Anyway, as always: Not a native speaker, so please excuse any weird grammatical constructions, run-ons and typos. Feedback will earn you a cookie, flames will roast my marshmellows.

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**Four Times McKay Didn't Say Anything and One Time He Did**

"_She's in love with you, that's all she wants to do  
She'll never let you down, she'll never fool around  
'Cos she's in love with you."_

_Suzie Quatro, "She's in Love With You"_

I

Sometimes he wonders if he's growing older or if Atlantis is getting _younger_. Well, not the city itself but the _crew_. There are days he feels like back in college again… or even back in _high school_. Groups of giggling _girls_ and all those young soldiers the SGC keeps sending, and all the geeks, male and female alike, that remind him of his own awkward youth spent in labs and his parents' basement… and it doesn't help to improve his mood, to say the least.

Because, you know, high school hadn't been exactly the best time of his life, even though everyone claims differently. When they _finally_ accepted his admission to college two years earlier than usual, he'd thought he'd died and gone to an awkward teenager's Heaven… only to have it all repeated again. The jocks, the cheerleaders, the actionists, the geeks… he wonders what _exactly_ makes pairing off into groups so desirable that people can't stop to doing it, even in high-profile work-environments like Atlantis.

And all the _flirting_ going on… it's really ridiculous. People always make it look like he's so socially inept that he has no idea about social interaction whatsoever but no, his genius does _not_ stop at saving the galaxy, one wormhole at a time, thank you very much. No, he does have _some_ social observation skills and he does know what flirting looks like.

Like, for example… right now. He's walking down a hallway, a few feet behind what looks like yet another one of a shipment of young soldiers picked right out of the Air Force Academy or whatever their sorry excuse for an academic education is called.

And there's one of those young girls from the IT department coming towards them… and just a few feet away from the soldier, she does that thing with the _smile_ and the _hair flip_ and it's so obvious that he's tempted to stop her and ask her which backwater community college she got her degree from because honestly, he always thought smart women wouldn't have to resort to such basic flirting techniques.

But the _most_ ridiculous thing is that the soldier – he just overtook him and recognized him to be one of Lorne's new minions, going by the name of Simpson or something – reacts exactly the way all the jocks back in high school did… that is to say, the dumber ones. For a moment, there's a stupid goofy smile and _then_ there's the telltale showing of white teeth and that flyboy grin all of them seem to have perfected, starting with Sheppard and ending with the lowest Airman or Marine.

All of it makes him want to grumble and he half hopes Zelenka will have mucked up something for him, so he has an excuse to be miserable. Because, honestly… high school is the last place he ever wanted to go back to, and finding Atlantis turned into something which resembles that makes him feel a bit cheated by the whole damn universe.

II

The second time he feels reminded of high school is a week later, in the food queue of all places. Two people ahead of him, there's the whole nine yards. Only five minutes ago, it was just a normal food queue with people waiting and doing some socializing, the kitchen guys being way too slow with refilling the food stands – honestly, wasn't speed the crucial criterion for eligibility? – and some people doing the most sensible thing: working.

Like that guy two people ahead of him… well, until suddenly the blond girl in front of him had turned around. She'd seemed vaguely familiar… and the moment that guy with the tablet had lifted his head at her inquiry – something along the lines of "Hey, are those the codes for the new statistics upgrades?" – he'd remembered where he knew her from… the little hallway scene.

And lo and behold, tablet guy had been Lorne's minion – Saunders, isn't it? – with that stupid goofy grin again, the moment he'd recognized Miss Hallway 2009. There had been a moment of silence from Saunders that had already made him roll his eyes because duh, yeah, she's talking to _you_, you stupid airhead.

Then there had come a hesitating, "Yeah… um… Dr. Uñaki asked me to look those over for the biologists and um… yeah, they are." And another time where he wonders what exactly _is_ being taught to those guys at their academies. Eloquence obviously is _not_ part of their curriculum.

Blondie gives Saunders a cute little grin and reaches for the tablet. "You mind if I take a look at that?"

She doesn't even wait for his uttered "Uh, sure, knock yourself out", before she takes it and scrolls through whatever is on there… wait, did those updates ever go over _his_ desk? And who the hell is Dr. Uñaki? He should know about this, shouldn't he?

He's about to barge in and ask Saunders what the hell he thinks he's doing but Blondie is faster. Pointing to something on the tablet, she says, "Oh, wow, I like that solution. Very elegant."

From what he can see, Saunders manages a grin and… a blush? Isn't that against military regulations; soldiers blushing? "You think so? 'Cause, you know, it took me ages to find a way to circumvent these loops here."

Yes, of course it did, he wants to throw in, because your major in soldier school was probably Shooting Straight 101 or something… but then he remembers that Sheppard and even Woolsey don't really like it when he belittles the intelligence – what intelligence, he always wants to ask them at that point – of their soldiers so he forces himself to keep quiet.

"Oh yeah, it really looks… gorgeous. But… I think you should rethink your approach _here_…" Blondie lets her fingertips fly over the tablet's screen and… wait, why does she keep sneaking glances at Saunders? _Oh_, right. She's… how would Sheppard say? Oh yeah, she's _checking him out_. Jeez, he thinks, Lord save me from hormonal Twentysomethings, _please_.

After a few more seconds of typing _he_ wonders where the damn kitchen guys are hiding the damn food and _Saunders_… looks impressed. Huh. "Oh, that… yeah, that makes much more sense. You know… you don't happen to have some… spare time, do you?" Oh great, and now he'll stumble his way through asking Blondie out for coffee or something… "Because, see, I think I could use a little help with another project."

Another almost eye rolling. Apparently, jocks aren't what they used to be. Saunders' lack of eloquence and flyboy ego kind of… disappoints him. Blondie however… looks thrilled… although she does try to conceal, at least a bit. "Sure, I'd love to. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."

Oh for Christ's sake… _food_! They finally brought new food! He swears, if Blondie doesn't turn around _right_ now and grab her food and be gone he'll have her on notice for letting him starve and therefore endangering the whole galaxy… "Sounds great. Oh, uh… you got any plans for lunch yet, or…" _And_ he will have Saunders fired for drawing Blondie's attention away from the food.

"No, I'm free. So let me just grab this and then…" Oh _thank God_ Blondie is able to talk and grab food at the same time and _thank God_ Saunders is, too so they finally made room for the people after them and stopped keeping up the whole queue. It really _was_ about time. Ah, food!

III

Just when he thought he'd learned to block out all the hormonal happenings around him, he stumbles over Lorne's minion – someone recently told him his name is Soderberg – and his Blondie a third time. It's been a few days since they kept the food queue waiting with their ogling and clumsy attempts at flirting… okay, the clumsy only applies to Soderberg, not Blondie… and he thought honestly he'd never have to see them again.

But then he walked into the computer lab and boom, there they were. The only other occupant was another one of the horde of soldiers… some officer… second wave, he thinks. Hangs out a lot with Lorne and Cadman… Manning or something. Anyway, he'd been there, typing away at one of the computers while Soderberg and Blondie had been sitting together in front of another one.

Usually that alone would have made him turn around and find something else to do – he really isn't a fan of the concept of shared labs – but today he had to be in _that_ lab to do something Zelenka had been nagging him about for over a week so he didn't really have an excuse left if he didn't want to be subject of Zelenka's Czech curses yet _again_. One day he's gonna write himself a translation program and finally get back at that Czech mad scientist… but yeah, not today.

Today, he needed to use one of the isolated computers that sit in the back of that particular lab and so he's sitting here, two seats away from Manning trying to concentrate on the codes on the screen… but damn, the two lovebirds at the other side of the room make it pretty hard.

Apparently… he had the misfortune of being witness to that little rendezvous they'd talked about in the mess hall – and why the hell does he even _remember_ that? – and they are going at it full force.

Or at least _she_ is. He can't hear what they're talking about because they're doing that stupid hushed voices thing, complete with silly giggles and snorting and… did she just give him a little shove to the shoulder? And now she's leaning against him and reaching across the keyboard and even though the screen gets in his way, he's pretty sure that one lucky young officer just got to see a nice bit of cleavage since Blondie didn't bother to fully zip up her regulation shirt.

God, this is just ridiculous. They're all but making out and Manning there at the other computer doesn't even bother to look up. Shouldn't he be all about harassing that soldier over there for behaving unbecomingly of an officer of the United States Air Force or some such nonsense?

Or no, wait… if he really is the one hanging out with Lorne and Cadman so much… he's also the one who's got something going on with one of the female Marines. Yeah, _that_ explains _a lot_… and why the hell does he even know that? Oh right, because he heard about it in the mess hall and before a staff meetings and in labs during breaks… yes, he knows many, many good reasons not to interact more than absolutely necessary with the majority of the Atlantis crew.

At the moment, however… two members of the Atlantis crew have _finally_ decided not to bother him anymore and are packing up their things… _still_ giggling and fooling around and… is that guy _blind_? If Blondie were invading _his_ personal space so consequently and constantly, he'd… well… he'd be… flattered. At least a bit.

But Soderberg? All _he_ does is chatter and grin and jeez why doesn't he just grab Little Miss Pushy and kiss her senseless right here? He'd so spare them all having to see just another dumb soldier in love. Really, it's enough that Lorne and Cadman were first mooning for each other and _now_ seem to think the city is their private little playground for making out. Honestly, if he hears _that_ special kind of laughter from Cadman in a hallway again he _will_…

Alright, Soderberg and Blondie are gone. Time to get back to work. Cracking his fingers, he concentrates on his screen again, purses his lips… "If you were about to say something about two Twentysomethings who need to get a room… you might want to reconsider." What the _hell_? He looks up again to see that Manning is also packing up his things… and grinning at him, in a smug and obnoxious kind of way he really doesn't like. And he even has the gall to add, "Or _I_ might have to say something about head scientists who need to get laid. And we both don't want that, do we?"

Okay, that's it. He will _definitely_ tell Sheppard about this and this time Woolsey and he _have_ to listen and take action. Really, the crap he has to take from all those grunts and flyboys… he glares at the one that just insulted him. "Hey, whoever you are…"

But that moron of a soldier won't even let him finish but just gives him one of those _looks_ all the soldiers seem to have reserved just for him and supplies him with, "Major Thomas Moore, but I'm pretty sure you'll have forgotten my name by the moment I walk through that door." Hey, he knew that. He _knew_ that guy's name was Moore. Of course he did. Sheppard isn't the only one able to remember everyone and their mothers' names.

He wants to tell Measter that he has no problem with remembering names, but the guy doesn't let him and even almost cheerfully adds a final, "Have a nice day, Doc", strides over to the door and leaves him sitting in the lab… now finally, blissfully, _alone_. Alright… codes… oh yeah, he'd wanted to work on codes.

IV

No, it really wasn't his week so far, he decides. He'd been in mortal danger twice, had to haul Sheppard's sorry ass back to Atlantis as many times, got treated like an idiot by some airhead soldier he didn't bother remembering the name of – even if he could have – had to watch another airhead soldier and some blond technician almost making out, couldn't get away from all the stupid Atlantis gossip because even his _team_ obviously _enjoys_ talking about that… All he wants to do now is hole up himself in his quarters where no one bothers him with yet another stupid problem or the story about that gay couple in Life Science that's been going around Atlantis for two weeks now or…

"You've _gotta_ be kidding me, Sergeant." No. No, that just can't be true. Honestly, this is not happening now…

"I'm most certainly not, sir." Giggling now and he never wished so fervently his quarters weren't situated at the end of a hallway, in a dead end, only approachable from one side… and on the other side of the common room he just heard the voices coming out of. There's no way he can get around it but he is _not_ in the mood to see Sundry and Blondie and probably some of their soldier buddies playing some stupid teenager game like Truth or Dare or something.

"Because, you know, Lieutenant, Sergeant DeLisle _never_ jokes. Now, do as he told you to." Wait, he knows that voice and that accent… one of the doctors on Jennifer's team. A German – military of some sort but he actually likes that guy. Can barely speak a word of proper English but at least his bedside manner is just _perfect_. Always friendly, always patient…

Still doesn't make it any more inviting to walk past that stupid door. "Easy for _you_ to say, sir. You aren't the one with your foot in the air and… _Miss Wilson_! Could you _please_ have the decency _not_ to try and _tickle_ me?" Who the hell is 'Miss Wilson', he wonders and before he can do anything about it, he has took that one final step and is suddenly standing in the doorway that leads to the common room he'd tried to avoid at all costs.

And a second later he knows why he'd tried to avoid it. There are four people in the room – as far as he can tell, at least – and three of them are involved in what looks like some weird alien mating ritual… well, either that or they're trying to play Twister. After having his gaze glued to the whole scene for another second at least, he isn't even sure which version would be more disturbing.

He's about to make some comment – _any_ comment, really – but there's a nice sounding, "Na, wenn das nicht Dr. Heulsuse ist. Vor dem ist man ja wirklich _nirgendwo_ sicher"*, from somewhere in the tangle of arms and legs on the ground and he actually manages to spot the face that belongs to it. Yeah, it's the German doctor and as always he's looking nice and friendly while Sundry and Blondie – who apparently goes by the name of Winters… well not so much.

In fact, he'd rather describe their looks as horrified in Sundry's case and something between caught and amused in Winters' case. All of them, though, look kind of like they just froze in whatever they'd been doing… well, until someone finally looses their balance and suddenly there's lots of giggling and snorting and laughing and a tangled heap of humans.

Which is the moment he chooses to turn around because he's pretty sure he just saw Winters 'accidentally' grope Sundry's ass while trying to disentangle herself and heard Sundry mumble "That better not have been _your_ hand, sir," most probably to the German because there really is no one else in the room he could have meant by that and… that's just it.

The whole thing just topped his demand of gossip and hormonal infested… whatevers of an entire _lifetime_ and he certainly does not want to see any of that _ever_ again. All of them are grown adults and why the hell is it so hard for everyone in Atlantis except him to fucking _behave_ like one? This really is just… no.

He doesn't even fully register that one of them just stuck their head out of the common room door and actually called after him to ask him if he wants to join in the next round and he swears he was never happier to reach his quarters than today. Sometimes… being in _Atlantis_ is the hardest part of being in Pegasus, not going on missions and being shot at and probably subject to things considered much worse… and today is really a prime example of it.

V

Why exactly did he let Sheppard rope him into this again? There's really _nothing_ here that appeals to him _whatsoever_. There's sun – thank God he recently finished another batch of his ultra sunscreen – and there's water which very probably has _whales_ in it… but the worst thing is that there are _other people_. People who are running around half-naked, people who are making noise… people who are _having fun_.

He has no idea who's responsible for this – and shouldn't this have gone across _his_ desk, _as well_? – but apparently, someone thought it a good idea to cordon off a part of the bay the East Pier creates and make into some kind of Waterland for grown-ups. Or… people who _look_ like grown-ups but _act_ like five-year-olds.

Like that bunch of soldiers over there, bragging and shouting and jumping off the pier… he'd like to walk over to Sheppard and tell him to get his people to fucking behave but he'd done exactly that only three days ago, telling Sheppard what a bunch of obnoxious and rude bastards his soldiers could be, that Montgomery guy from the computer lab first and foremost… but all Sheppard had done had been telling him that the only Montgomery in the military contingent is a female Captain and then _Woolsey_ had actually chimed in and basically told him to suck it up – not in those words but he got the picture, thank you very much – and that the Atlantis officer corps was comprised of "well-educated, eloquent men and women who don't have even one rude or obnoxious bone in their body".

They'd literally ganged up on him and now he's intent on finding a way to show both of them that the Atlantis officers are not all gentlemen and ladies. Which probably is the only reason he'd agreed to come out here and… "Jesus, you stupid oaf, what it's gonna take me to make you _see_ it?"

"See _what_, Kassandra? Hey… stop… could you please…" Oh, what's this? Lover's spat? Against his firm decision to never involve himself in any Atlantis gossip, he can't help watching the drama that's unfolding in front of him with a certain amount of interest.

"No, you can figure _that_ out yourself, Lieutenant McSmartypants. _I_ am _done_ dropping hints left, right and center", Blondie hurls at Searing's head and swishes past in her bikini-clad glory and leaves behind a guy that looks more like a drowned rat than his usual Air Force poster boy self, standing there crestfallen and staring into the direction Blondie just stomped away in.

Then Searing shakes his head and mumbles a pitiful, "I don't get it… one minute she's joking around… and the next she's storming off in a huff."

Jesus. He can't believe that the guy _really_ didn't get it. For a seeming eternity, Blondie was practically walking around with a sign on her forehead that said "I _want_ you, flyboy." and flyboy apparently was too dumb to see it. So he didn't actually fend her off… but – and here he almost laughed out loud – could it be that Searing simply thought she was being _nice_ to him, not _trying to get into his pants_?

And somehow… poor Searing and his still dumbfounded expression make him feel a certain sympathy… and before he knows it, he opened his mouth and says, "Maybe she was pissed because you deliberately ignored her attempts at _flirting_ with you… _McSmartypants_?"

It takes Searing a moment to register that _he_ was meant but then he turns around and clears his throat. "Uh… excuse me… sir?" Hey, what's with the hesitation? He's a high ranking civilian and everyone in Atlantis knows him so yes, he does warrant a 'sir'.

"Blondie in the bikini. She was flirting with you, every damn time I had the misfortune to come across you two." God, that just felt so _good_. He really should have said something like that _way_ earlier.

"With all due respect, sir, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about. I can't recall _any_ attempts at flirting from Kass… Miss Wilson." Yeah, of course you can't because your brain can't compute anything that doesn't have to do with weapons or planes or explosives, he's tempted to answer but just caught a mean glance from Sheppard which was probably meant to remind him to be _nice_ to the soldiers. Ah, hell.

"Oh come on, Top Gun. The hair flip, the invasion of private space… and do you honestly think she just put the whole 'watch while I dive' show on for that bunch of juvenile Marines over there?" Honestly, it was so obvious that _he_ had no problem spotting it.

"Sir, I really…"

_Jesusfuckingchrist_, that's just it. "For Heaven's sake, do you want that girl?"

Searing… blushes. Again, isn't this against regulations? He _really_ has to ask Sheppard about that. "Well, I don't think that's really your business…" A glare now. Of course it is because they've been bothering him with their stupid courtship thingy for a seeming eternity now. "Okay, yeah, I do."

"Then fucking go and grab her and spare us all your kicked puppy looks and her woman scorned act." Ages ago. He really, really should have done that _ages ago_. It even feels kind of… liberating. Well, if he keeps on ignoring the dark looks more and more members of the military population are starting to throw him from the pool.

Searing clears his throat again, apparently aware off the fact that they're starting to draw an increasing amount of attention. "Sir, if I may remind you, she just left the pier and…"

"_Go_, you idiot. Tell her some of that romantic nonsense all you semi adults seem to be able to come up with in an instant and you'll be fine." Searing tries to come up with yet another excuse but he throws him one of those glares that work very well on the junior scientists when they messed up yet another experiment. And yep… works on soldiers, too, because now Searing just nods at him, tries to explain that he's going to leave now and then simply moves to follow Blondie off the pier.

_Thank God_, he thinks and decides to leave the pier as well… when suddenly a woman catches his eyes. She's dark haired, has a well-toned greatly tanned body – something about that tells him she's one of the female soldiers – and just walked by him and… did she just _smile_ at him? Damn, he even _knows_ her… Marsha or Mendez or… no, wait, it's _Mehra_. Yeah, something like that… okay, _maybe_ he'll stay just a little while longer. Getting a slight tan _is_ healthy after all… and health is really important in his job. Yeah, definitely going to stay a little while longer.

*"Hey, if that isn't Dr. Crybaby. You _really_ can't escape him."


	2. A Quarter After One

**A/N:** Aaand... I'm back! Also, **mac**'s beta block seems to have lifted which means... new stories! Yay! So, here's the first one: two unusual suspects, good advice and a bit of alcohol. It's one of two birthday gifts for mac (the other one was _Four Times Rodney McKay..._) and takes place sometime between _Good Intentions_ and _A Little Place Like Kokomo_. Also, I really like the line on the t-shirt (you'll know what I mean when you get there) but... it's not by me but the incredible Farva of Air Force Blues (google afblues... go on, do it!) and I hope you will, too ;)

And... yeah, language warning.

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**A Quarter After One**

"_Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door  
Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before  
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?  
For me it happens all the time_

_It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now  
Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now  
And I don't know how I can do without  
I just need you now."_

_Lady Antebellum, "Need You Now"_

She's really an idiot. Or he's one. Or they're both idiots. Ah, whatever… it's the middle of the night and he should be asleep… and not doing what he's doing now. Which is sitting around in an Atlantis common room, staring out of the window and slowly sipping from a can of beer someone left in the fridge in a corner of the room and didn't bother to label with their name.

Okay, there's no mission scheduled for tomorrow – at least none the boss bothered to announce, that is – but yeah… in a place like Atlantis, you're told to grab every bit of sleep you can. It was probably the first thing he ever learned about living in the place they shipped him off to almost right after finishing the Academy – well, practically right before learning his new CO gave a damn about Air Force regulations. Or seemed like he did. Ah, hell.

But at least thinking about missions or his boss keeps him from thinking about just how _much_ he screwed up in his personal life just a few hours ago. He still doesn't really know how he ended up here because it had started out innocently enough – talking about vacation plans with Kassandra – and had ended in a big fight about family and responsibility and being a coward and not listening to him and… lots of other stuff he couldn't get together if his life depended on it. Well… and ultimately with Kassandra throwing him out of her quarters and making it _very_ clear that she expected him not to come back if he knew what was good for himself… _ever_.

Yeah… apparently, his turned from kind of to regular girlfriend just turned into very definitely not being his girlfriend anymore and he isn't even sure as to _why_ that happened. After finding himself in the hallway, he'd briefly considered going straight to the work-out room to work off his frustration but just two weeks ago, he'd found Captain Cadman in there, furiously manhandling the punching bag and he'd been smart enough not to make his presence known to her because he'd remembered the shouting he'd heard from her lab just in time before slowly backing away. And since he'd seen Dr. McKay entering her lab today as well, shortly before he'd knocked on Kassandra's door, he'd thought better of his plan because the odds that the room would be occupied again by a seriously pissed off Laura Cadman had been too high.

And since he hadn't wanted to risk running into any of his team mates – and most of all not the boss because the man's perceptiveness in exactly the wrong moments still creeps him out sometimes – he'd snuck off to a lesser inhabited part of Atlantis and tried to work off his frustration with a method that already proved to work well at the Academy when nothing else was possible: push-ups, sit-ups and then some more push-ups and sit-ups.

However… not even that had helped and after a few unsuccessful attempts at sleeping he'd decided that if he was awake, he could very well be so at a place less oppressive – since too much in his quarters reminded him of Kassandra and she's really the one thing he _doesn't_ want to be reminded of right now. So it's just the empty and the beer and… "Don't tell me you finally learned the art of asking for forgiveness rather than asking for permission, Lieutenant."

Good _grief_. At the voice of Major Moore coming from behind him suddenly, he actually winced. For a moment, he considers just ignoring the Major and continuing to stare straight out of the window but then again… he's still just a Lieutenant and as much as a pain in the ass Major Moore is, he's still a senior rank. And most of all he's a senior rank you seriously shouldn't piss off if you want a reasonably peaceful life in Atlantis.

So he turns around… and is a little surprised. The middle of the night version of Major Moore looks nothing like the version he knows. Instead, there's disheveled hair, a faded t-shirt displaying something that looks like a Lear jet and saying 'Mine's bigger.' and track pants. Well, that and an overall tired look that just doesn't want to fit with what he's used to from Major 'I killed to serve my country before your momma even let you out of the house' Moore.

He clears his throat. "With all due respect… I don't think my private life is of any of your concern, sir."

That only elicits something that could be a clueless look if that wasn't Major Moore… and then something that looks like a suppressed amused grin. "I meant the beer, Lieutenant."

Oh… oh, damn. Of _course_ Moore was talking about the _beer_… not about what happened earlier today. He couldn't possibly have _known_ about that, really.

Mh.

Or maybe… maybe that hadn't been such an impossible idea after all. He's still convinced that the one who ratted him out to Cadman had been the Major because on the list of all the people that are able and/or allowed to access the security camera tapes, Moore had been the only one he wouldn't put it past. So… he shouldn't underestimate him. Carefully he clears his throat. "Of course, sir. I… uh…"

"There still one in the fridge of those?" This… continues to puzzle him. Usually, Major Moore gives him evil looks and snaps at him, ever since he made the mistake of voicing his then disapproval of his boss a little too loudly in the mess hall. _Someone_ – Meyers, for example – could have told him that Major Moore and Major Lorne are friends _before_ that, honestly.

So he wordlessly nods, watching the Major trudge over to the fridge and fish out another unlabeled can. At least now he isn't the only perpetrator anymore. When Moore's done, he comes back and plops down on the couch opposite his, takes a _very_ long draft from the can and then leans back, his eyes closed. Huh. What the hell… oh. _Oh_. Could it be that… nah. Surely, he didn't get thrown out by Captain Reece… or did he?

Damn, his curiosity is just too big to be kept inside… and anyway, he can blame the alcohol for it, if it happens to go wrong. So he clears his throat again. "Excuse me, sir, but... is everything okay? You don't look exactly... rested."

That was pretty… brave – in the sense of 'stupid' – and he's not quite sure if that's something that would earn him the Sergeants' pity… or their undying admiration and respect. From _Moore_… it earns him a raised eyebrow and then a matter-of-factly, "When 36 years old you reach, look as good you will not, hm?"

Wha… Don't laugh, Joe, just – don't – laugh. He's a Major, he's practically BFF with the boss, he can make your life a living hell. Keep it… short. "Never pegged you for a Star Wars nerd, sir."

Moore just shrug. "And I'm not. That's just the only line I ever bothered to remember."

Okay, that… went well, didn't it? "Of course, sir."

Now Moore frowns. Oh damn, what did he do wrong _now_? Too much attitude? Sarcasm showing through? Argh. "Hey, stranger things have happened, okay? I know for a fact that your boss... no, you have to ask him that yourself." What… was that supposed to mean? His boss and… _what_? Being a _Star Wars nerd_? He's about to ask the Major anyway but he seems to have anticipated it and goes for a diversion, "So… trouble in paradise, huh?"

Oh God, how does he _do_ that? So yes, he was a bit afraid of Moore before… but now he realizes he should have been afraid of him a _lot_ more. Maybe even more afraid than he's of Captain Cadman. And the way Moore looks at him – like he knows more than he'd like to – he knows he can admit it anyway. "Just a bit, sir. And… excuse me but… what gave you the idea?"

For some reason, he hopes that one can of beer was enough to loosen Moore's tongue enough that he will tell him at least a bit of his secret… "Easy. Heard the shouting coming from Miss Wilson's quarters a mile away in the hallway earlier today. Pieced one and one together… here you are, miserable as hell."

Err… is it just him or… sounded that last part more like Major Moore was talking about _himself_? Well, the way he just ran a hand through his unruly hair and stared at the almost empty can suggested that… that he has something like _feelings_? To be honest… until this moment, he always wondered if Maureen Reece was maybe controlled by some alien device because he never understood what could make someone like _her_ – smart, funny, _nice_ – hook up with Thomas Moore of all people. But that little glimpse… told him there _is_ more to one of the probably most mysterious relationships in Atlantis.

Well… what now? Should he say something? Or should he… "Anyway… want to know how to avoid the next big fight?" Oh… oh, did _Major Moore_ just offer to share a piece of his infinite flag officer wisdom?

Unfortunately, he's not really in the mood for some flag officer advice now. Also, what is it with flag officers and offering him unsolicited advice as often as they can? Not even the Sergeants are _that_ generous with advice. But then again, they drilled respect of superiors too deeply into his head and he's tired and not _really_ sober anymore… ah, hell. "I wouldn't say no if you had a suggestion for me, sir."

Moore leans back again and tries to look… important. Okay… "Well, the thing is… Atlantis women always have something to say, and it's usually something smart and reasonable. The biggest mistake we can make is not listening to them." That… was a no-brainer, wasn't it? Everyone knows that the female inhabitants of Atlantis are smart because otherwise they wouldn't be here… oh, wait. He meant the _other_ kind of smart. Or maybe both.

And damn, that was another surprising hint as to how the relationship between Moore and Reece most likely works. He just can't withstand prying a little more. "What did _you_ not listen to, sir?"

Okay, that _does_ make Moore throw him another one of his death glares. "Careful, Lieutenant. Don't overstep your boundaries."

Right. Back away _now_. "Wouldn't dare dream of it, sir."

Oh God, hopefully that came across like he intended it to and the Major actually believes him… He'd never admit it, but apart from his boss and Colonel Sheppard Major Moore is the officer that can kick his ass the most in hand-to-hand combat practice… and getting beat up by his superiors is _not_ his most favorite hobby. "Yeah, you better." Phew. _That_ was close. "Now, go back and listen to your tech. You'll be surprised what will happen."

Yeah, right. As if Kass would _ever_ listen to him again. "Sir, I don't think…" Another… half-glare from Moore. What? Pissed off that he dared speak against his precious advice?

"And I _think_ you're giving up far too easily. Do you really want me to spell out _how_ head over heels Miss Wilson is for you?" How… what… _why_? And… did Moore just accuse him of being a quitter?

No way he'll let _anyone_ do _that_. "Alright, sir. But if she kicks me out again…"

"It's all your fault for still not listening to her," Moore just says, smirks and shrugs. The… _bastard_. "Now, come on, get going. Life's too short to waste it being separated… especially around here." Oh… oh, okay. Moore does have a point with that. And he still vividly remembers how stressed and worried the boss had been when Captain Cadman had been in the hand of those Genii-Hybrids or whatever they were.

Meyers later had told him in his usual… diplomatic way that shortly before Cadman had been captured, the boss and she had had a pretty big fight and that they apparently hadn't made up before that mission. At least… then he'd finally understood why the boss had ignored all regulations and standard protocols when the door to Cadman's cell had finally been opened. He takes a deep breath. "Good point, sir. If you'd… excuse me, please?"

Moore just gestures for him to get going, so he gets up, throws the empty can away… and turns around at the door because he just wondered about something. "Just… one more question, if you don't mind… What about you, sir?"

For a moment, Moore looks genuinely puzzled. Huh? "Uh… what about _me_?"

Oh damn, now he's forced to elaborate. How to phrase that in a way that won't get him his ass kicked… "Well, you know… Captain Reece… your couch…" Okay, certainly _not_ like that.

From the look on Moore's face, he just considered giving him what he thinks he deserved for that comment but then he seems to have decide to give just a bit of leeway… probably because he listened to his advice in the end. So instead of glaring him to death again, Moore just shrugs and tries to be nonchalant. "Oh, she'll come around eventually."

Honestly? From the few glimpses he just got into the Major's relationship with Reece, he could almost believe that Moore isn't half as confident about this as he looks and it fascinates him that apparently, there actually are things that even that guy is afraid of. "Or… you could listen to your own advice." Damn. Damn, damn, damn, why can't he just keep his big mouth shut? He'd sworn to himself he'd _never_ let it get the better of him again after getting his ass busted by Cadman that one time. And there he goes, doing it again and again and _again_.

And no, Moore doesn't look amused now. "Didn't I just tell you to be careful?" Huh… or maybe… maybe just a little bit amused? Is that what the tug in the corner of his mouth just suggested?

But anyway… better get going now before he talks himself into a hole deep enough he won't ever be able to get out of. "Just saying, sir… just saying."

"Less talking, more moving your ass back to your tech, Lieutenant." Ouch.

It's a good suggestion, though… actually, it's something he'd been wanting to do ever since she threw him out and now that he got more or less _ordered_ to do it… it's a sign, really. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." He's tempted to wish Moore luck for getting off the couch and back into Captain Reece's good graces – well, and the bedroom – but really… he always got told not to push it and _that_ would _definitely_ be pushing it. So he leaves it at, "And… good night, sir."

There's just an impatient nod and wave from the Major and he takes that as a good moment to leave. He's got something important to do now… and that's listening to Kassandra, no matter if she wants it or not, and if it's the last thing he'll ever do. Yeah, good plan.


	3. Air Force Wife

**A/N:** Okay, so since I posted the Fred prologue (over in the crossover section, SGA/Leverage and the actual title is _Protect and Survive 14: The Government Conspiracy Job_), I can post the Side Trips that take place after it (that is, after Atlantis gets back to Earth... yes, I actually tried to stay within the canon timeline with the PAS series...) now. This one takes place about three months after the prologue/EATG and... I just couldn't resist it after having been forced to wa... I mean, _convinced_ to watch Army Wives by **mac**. And um... Fred and this one will probably not be the only crossovers for PAS... even though **mac **would probably like to differ *coughs

* * *

**Protect and Survive: Air Force Wife**

„_Wenn das mal alles so einfach wär',  
dann hätt' ich drei Sorgen weniger.  
Dann wär' die Welt voller Zuversicht,  
aber so einfach ist es nicht."_

_Die Ärzte, „Wenn das mal alles so einfach wär"_

"So..." the woman in the understated and tasteful evening gown in front of her says, "what did you do before you married Major Lorne?"

Huh? What's that supposed to mean? "What do you mean, before I married him?" She frowns and tightens the grip on her purse and can just resist the urge to look around for Evan and try to signal him to pluck her from the claws of those harpies… that is to say, the gloved soft hands of the wives of other flag officers that are surrounding her.

The wife that's currently questioning her – a Mrs. Dannenberg, wife of some General or other – purses her lips and gives her a look that's supposed to be an amused little smile but actually makes her want to do terrible things to the perfectly groomed face. "Well, what was your job? I mean, you had to give up yours, didn't you?" She… _what_?" I think I remember Colonel Ender's wife telling me..." _Who_?

Okay, that's really enough. Who the hell does this Dannenberg woman think she is? Just because her husband has a star on his shoulder where hers has the bronze oak leaves it doesn't give her the right to judge her like that… and what's with the namedropping? Her frown deepens and she has difficulties resisting the temptation to do something very un-Air Force wife like but very _Cadman_-like. "Uh, no, I did no such thing. I'm a Captain in the Marine Corps. Why would I want to give that up?"

For a moment there's something like… _disgust_? Is that what she just detected in the other woman's face? Damn, this whole thing – a Welcome Back Ball for the crew of Atlantis in Washington, D.C. and the appropriate number of rear echelon big wigs and their wives where some stupid ancient staff officer had the idea that women weren't allowed to wear their uniforms – starts to become not only bothersome but downright awful. And the openly condescending tone in her voice doesn't make her like the General's wife any better. "Oh because it would make things so much easier, dear."

Easier? _Easier_? What the _hell_? "Uh… what… I mean… _excuse_ me?" Dammit, where's Evan? Or at least Maureen. Or Jennifer. Or…

"Millicent, how nice to see you here," she hears from behind her and they're joined by another woman. This one looks younger – in her late thirties or maybe early forties – but equally elegant and by now she can tell from a few glances at make-up, dress and demeanor that this is another officer's wife. Oh great, now she's the subject of the scorn and mean amusement of _two_ harpies.

But… the short flash of discontent on Mrs. Dannenberg's face… makes her curious. Is this part of the strange game of smiles and jibes that all those wives play and that she will probably never understand? "Claudia Joy… I have to say it's quite a surprise to see you here."

Okay, those two seem to know each other. Maybe… that's her chance to get away from that Dannenberg woman now… "Michael and I happened to be in town and had dinner with Colonel Carter. She was kind enough to invite us." How did she _do_ that? She's pretty sure that Mrs. Dannenberg meant to insult this Claudia Joy woman but she just… waved it off. There's no malice in the smile and the voice sounds perfectly calm and friendly. If she'd been insulted like that… "Millicent, I'm sorry but… could I borrow your charming partner here for a moment? I won't be long I promise. I just need to ask her…"

She can see that the Dannenberg woman wants to protest but then her eyes seem to find something else equally unpleasing as herself… or maybe even more. A little perplexed, she follows Mrs. Dannenberg's gaze and it stops at a the middle-aged blonde standing at the buffet table at the other side of the ballroom, talking animatedly with a middle-aged man in Air Force mess dress.

Oh… _amazing_. From one moment to the next, aloof and snooty Mrs. Dannenberg concentrates all her malicious energy on those two and with barely a "If you'd please excuse me…" she's gone in a swirl of soft pink taffeta and silk… and that leaves her with Claudia Joy.

She's about to excuse herself as well because she just caught an alarmed look from Maureen that told her that Tom's probably about to chase off another member of the brass whose influence they need to commandeer resources for getting Atlantis back to Pegasus where it belongs. But apparently, Claudia Joy doesn't think so. "Well… that was… interesting."

"Uh… excuse me?" Phew, at least she didn't just blurt out a stupid "What?" She really starts to feel tired because this world of evening gowns and mess dress and tuxedos just isn't hers and will never _be_ hers… and she starts to realize that there are things about being an Air Force wife that she never actually considered but definitely should have.

"Oh, I'd planned on using an excuse to… well, never mind. Thankfully, that problem just solved itself, anyway." Huh? What? She thinks she just lost the conversation. "Oh wait…" there's a look that's almost scrutinizing now and then a smile that could have looked condescending if there hadn't been that kind of amused twinkle in Claudia Joy's eyes, "you're new to the game, aren't you?"

"The… game?" God, she's starting to sound _stupid_ and she has a feeling that she also _looks_ stupid now.

Thankfully being 'new to the game' seems to give you some leeway in Claudia Joy's eyes and she just smiles. "Being a military wife, I mean. You belong to a Major Evan Lorne, don't you?"

"No, I don't." Argh. The Air Force wife, Laura, not the Marine. Be the Air Force wife. She clears her throat. "I mean, I don't _belong_ to him. I'm _married_ to him."

That… makes Claudia Joy… wait, is she _grinning_? Nah… women like her, they don't grin. They smile or purse their lips or slightly lift the corners of their mouths… but they don't _grin_. And still… that looks very _much_ like a grin. "Sorry, my mistake. Oh, and… I'm so sorry, I still haven't introduced myself. Claudia Joy Holden, nice to meet you."

She sticks out her hand now – perfectly manicured, of course – and still a little confused she takes. "Captain Laura Cadman-Lorne, nice to meet you, too… ma'am." Since they'd obviously been dining with Colonel Samantha Carter, she assumes that whomever Mrs. Holden is married to, he must be someone with lots of influence so she should probably remember some of her lessons on good manners.

"Claudia Joy is fine, Laura. And a Captain, huh? Air Force as well?" God, _no_, she wants to say and snort but uh… probably not a good idea, since she still doesn't know who _exactly_ Claudia Joy's husband is.

So she tries her best social event voice and replies, "No, Marine Corps. But Evan is Air Force." Argh. Whoever Claudia Joy is, she probably knows everything about Evan from her elusive brass husband and… damn, that stupid social event voice makes her feel like her IQ just dropped a solid 50 points or something.

At least Claudia Joy doesn't let her see that she probably thought that this Captain isn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. "I imagine you have quite the back story then. Air Force and Marine Corps… they don't meet all that often, do they?"

"You have _no_ idea." Oh, crap. Not everyone has the appropriate security clearance and she doubts that an officer's security clearance always includes his wife. She clears her throat. "But… uh… I can't tell you any of it, unfortunately. If I did…"

"You'd have to shoot me, yes, I know." What the…? This isn't your usual military wife now, is she? "Michael and I have known Colonel Carter for ages. We know that the people from her project aren't allowed to talk about it. And the Army has their own top secret projects they don't even tell Major Generals about, much less their wives. It's okay, Laura."

Ah, Claudia Joy is an _Army_ wife, then. And… a Major General's wife. Oh _crap_. When she'd told Evan she'd just get herself something to eat, she'd never expected she'd get waylaid by the wives of two _Generals_… in fact she'd never expected to get waylaid by _anyone_. "So…" Claudia Joy starts again, and somehow… that word reminds her of Mrs. Dannenberg's interrogation, "back to the game. Your first function as an Air Force wife?"

She grimaces because she realizes she really starts to hate that title. It sounds like her entire being is defined by the sole fact that she happens to be married to an Air Force officer. "I'm a Captain in the United States Marine Corps. That's definitely _not_ my first social function."

"Ah, not as an officer. But as the wife of one." The only reason she doesn't want to do the same things to Claudia Joy's face that she wanted to do to Mrs. Dannenberg's face is that she looks like she actually _understands_ the dilemma and just had the guts to spell it out. "Yes, that's what I thought. First timers are pretty easy to spot."

"Oh really?" she asks and can't help the sarcastic undertone. But honestly, she's an officer, she knows more ways to blow shit up than those wives know brioche recipes and she's got more ribbons and medals on her Class A's than the wives have pearl necklaces and ear rings in their drawers. What does it _matter_ if she's 'easy to spot' or not?

Claudia Joy… seems to have noticed her growing annoyance. "Yes, really. Someone with a bit of experience knows how to steer clear of… ladies like Millicent Dannenberg. You walked into the trap open-eyed." Yeah but… _so __what_? A bit of hassle for an evening and then she can go back to a life where _real_ things count. "I take it you and Major Lorne aren't done with your career in the Armed Forces yet?"

She shakes her head, not quite knowing what this has to do with being 'easy to spot'. "Sure. I mean, he's overdue for a promotion and I don't plan on going inactive as a Captain, either."

"Laura… from what Colonel Carter told us, the post… the _base_ you're living on is quite… unique. But… let me tell you a little story about the post _I_ am living on. About four years ago, Michael was due for a promotion to Brigadier General. He… didn't get it, though, because a certain Lenore Baker – wife of then _Colonel_ Baker – spread the rumor that my husband, whose XO was the highest ranking African-American female on post, was a racist." Okay… okay, she's getting what this is about. Base politics. Good old base politics. The thing she thought only others had to concern themselves with but never she because one of the best things about Atlantis is that there may be base politics… but in a completely different kind, and mostly among the scientist community, not among the soldiers.

She'd like to answer now that they don't intend to live on a base and that she's convinced they're both kick-ass officers enough to prove to the respective promotion boards that no amount of badmouthing can keep them from getting the promotions they deserve but… the higher you get, the thinner the air becomes. "So… you basically want to tell me that I have to become some hybrid of Lara Croft and Martha Stewart if I want us _both_ to succeed?"

Right. Way to go to talk to a General's wife who probably devoted all her adult life to being the epitome of the perfect wife and mother, not a spot on her vest – or those of any kids, if there are some, for that matter – so _he_ could climb the ladder. Just great. And… did she just catch a worried glance from _Evan_? "Basically… yes." What? What's so funny about that, huh? "And maybe mix a little Eleanor Roosevelt into it while you're at it."

"Great. It's not like I have a _job_ to do or anything." Damn. Damndamndamn. Mrs. Major General didn't have to be nice but she was anyway and now she just belittled her and her achievements and probably made a livelong enemy.

And yeah, it looks a little like Claudia Joy's patience is starting to wan, even though the only sign that points towards that is how she looks down for a moment and purses her lips. Okay… maybe she's starting get better at the 'game'. "It's not like we _all_ have a job to do, Laura. Among my friends on post I have a nurse, a psychiatrist and a bar owner. And you have one advantage none of us have." She raises her eyebrow, as if to inquire 'What's that supposed to be?' "You know how it is. You _really_ know how it is. We all say that we're as much in the Army as our spouses are but the truth is… we're not. When you get back from deployment, neither of you have to ask "How was it?" because you _know_ that. You have no idea of the difference that makes."

Well… yeah, that's true. It's something her sister-in-law Anna – another Air Force wife but not really an _Air Force wife_ – told her she envies her very much and yes, she _does_ have an idea of the difference it makes.

Every time Evan wakes up beside her and she knows instantly what made him gasp and every time she comes home being bruised all over and probably also sporting some bandages and he doesn't ask stupid questions, just gives her a kiss and takes her in his arms because he _knows_, she knows exactly the difference it all makes. She takes a deep breath. "Actually… I do have an idea. And… and I'm sorry for being a stubborn ungrateful idiot. This… isn't my usual self. Well, okay, it _is_ my usual self…"

"It's okay, Laura. In fact… you're reminding me very much of a friend right now." Oh, hey, she just managed to amuse someone. That's a good thing, right? Usually, when she amuses people they tend to forget she made them mad in the first place. Well, okay… it doesn't always work with Evan… but it usually works with everyone else. "A very good friend… you'd like her. She had a little trouble adjusting to the whole military wife thing at first… but she got the hang of it eventually."

Yeah… but she probably never will. She's about to tell Claudia Joy that but she hears a familiar voice say, "Didn't you say you wanted to get something to eat?" Right… _now_ he comes over to her. Honestly, she could have used his support against that harpy Millicent Dannenberg. No fun for him tonight, she decides. That should do it.

"The Captain got intercepted by Millicent Dannenberg. And you must be Major Lorne?" He nods and Claudia Joy looks at _her_, kind of expectantly…

Oh.

_Oh_. Right. She clears her throat. "Uh… Claudia Joy, this is Major Evan Lorne, my husband. Evan, this is…"

"Claudia Joy Holden, wife of Major General Michael Holden, I know. Pleased to meet you, ma'am." Oh crap. How come he knows who she's talking to without even having been introduced? And why does he always have to be so… _proper_ and _correct_ and… yeah, because he's Evan Lorne. But hey, how dare he make her look like a idiot now… "Colonel Carter just told me, Laura."

She glares at him. "But you still could have let me finish, you know."

A sheepish rubbing of his neck now from him and… an amused smile from Claudia Joy? Yeah, right, as long as _someone_ is having fun here… "Right. I'm sorry. You… have to excuse my rudeness, Mrs. Holden. Laura's been trying to make a good Marine husband out of me but I'm still having a little trouble adjusting. She sure has high standards."

It makes Claudia Joy laugh now and as much as she wants to resist, she can't help flashing a reluctant grin. And then he gets his usual charming flyboy routine in motion while he breathes a kiss into her hair and secretly squeezes her hand and she starts to rethink the "No action tonight" decision. Maybe, she thinks, she'll never make a good Air Force wife… but he'll positively make a hell of a Marine husband.

* * *

"If it were so easy  
I'd have three worries less  
And the world would be full of hope  
But it's not as easy."

Die Ärzte, "If It Were So Easy"


	4. The Prettiest Sight to See 1 of 2

**A/N:** And we have here... the first _Protect and Survive_ Christmas story! It takes place after _Calm in the Heat of War_ (that is to say, Evan and Laura are married) but before Enemy at the Gate (that is to say, Atlantis is still in the Pegasus galaxy). I also borrowed Team Kemp again from the wonderful **-leah**... just because she let me ;) Okay, and because it's fun to see... Laura do what she does here ;) Anyway... enjoy :)

(and oh God, I have to say it... **mac** really does belong in beta hell for the snark she gave me for this chapter... but then again, I belong in author hell, as well ;))

* * *

**The Prettiest Sight to See**

"_It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas  
Toys in ev'ry store  
But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be  
On your own front door."_

_Johnny Mathis, "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas"_

**One**

Well… this is gonna be fun, she's sure of that. Whoever had the idea to hold an Atlantis wide Secret Santa – and no, she did _not_ have anything to do with _that_ – surely must be a genius. Not as much of a genius as herself but yes… a genius. Because, you know, the last three weeks gave her an opportunity to excel in… how to say it without using the terms "meddling" or "pushing" or even "matchmaking"? Well… bringing the right people together. Yes, that's what she excelled in.

And now she's about to watch all her labors bear fruit since it's the big gift exchange night. And it's going to be a _big_ gift exchange since almost fifty people decided to cast their name into the bowl; even Evan, after she had… persuaded him to do so. Granted, it had sounded more like blackmailing and cajoling but in the end he'd seen reason – her explanation that this was part of his job as Atlantis' military second-in-command as well because he's also responsible for moral among the population, military and civilian alike was pretty much a killer argument – and had agreed to take part as well.

However… he's not here yet, probably claiming he's got some second-in-command business to do. She tries not to be too miffed but if he chooses to stay absent for the whole course she'll have some choice words for him tonight. At least _that_. But anyway… the gift exchange now will hopefully be interesting even without him.

So now she's set on seeing how well her efforts at matching the right people worked. Granted, she hadn't had all selfless motives for this but… she hopes that in the end, other people will also benefit from her labors. Three weeks after drawing the respective partners and, in her case, making sure she got the one she wanted, she damn well hopes everyone better appreciate the time and effort she put into her schemes.

It had taken her a while – and several people to convince – to get who she wanted to give her present to but in the end it had worked. Okay, so according to this year's rules – it's the second ever Secret Santa on Atlantis, so it's even very close to becoming a tradition – swapping was absolutely forbidden but she had learned very early on that rules that aren't there to save your life are there to be broken.

And anyway, it's so much more fun when people _think_ no one swapped their partners even if probably everyone did anyway. Even Evan let himself be persuaded to swap. She still thinks that this was probably her master piece… although, no, that had been persuading little Wells to take the one she'd drawn first… wait, no, that had been pretty easy for some reason… ah, hell.

"Okay, everyone… we'll do it like this: I'll call a name, you step forward, get your present and then step back. Everyone got it?" Sheppard suddenly says and then throws the Marines a very telling look. One day, she thinks, she _will_ let the NCOs and enlisted men show Sheppard just how ingenious Marines can be… but for now she'll still stay with her "Let them underestimate us" doctrine. The Zoomies underestimating the Marine population of Atlantis in terms of brains has come in handy time and again and the time to give that up hasn't come yet.

"Alright… Abilene," Sheppard calls and a girl she thinks belongs to engineering steps up. Step by step, everyone gets their presents and when it's time for "Cadman!" she almost skips to the front and takes the little package that Sheppard gives her. After a short moment of consideration, she decides not to unwrap it here, seeing as after unwrapping her gift, Aversham from the biology department held an object in her hands that could only be described as a dildo and Bei-Ling from diplomacy now has to decide what to do with a… oh crap, it's the porn video _someone_ brought to Atlantis and that resurfaces as a gift now and again. She actually found herself thinking about asking Bei-Ling if he'd mind giving her the video since she's kind of curious what the fuck it's actually _about_.

Anyway, better concentrate on the gift exchange again. Teyla just got her present and she's really interested to see what Dusty Mehra came up with. It looks like… a rolled up yoga mat and apparently also some other accessories. Interesting, she thinks, and wonders what it says about _Dusty_. Then they go through all the other letters in the alphabet… until they get to K and it gets interesting for her again.

There's Kappeller, Kaufmann… and Kemp. The newly promoted Captain walks up to Sheppard and gets his gift. It's a… not so neatly wrapped little package – amazing, she thinks, that some people manage to confuse even computer-programmed high tech self-wrapping paper – and she's really curious to see what's in it. Because, well, she knows who's Kemp's Secret Santa… mostly because _she_ was the one to… arrange this pairing.

Okay, he walks back to his team… and Wells looks she can't quite decide between wanting to run away and desperately wanting to know how Kemp will react once he unwraps it. In the end… she seems rooted to the spot, trying to look as if she has no idea what's in the package. Dammit, hurry up, Captain, she thinks and _finally_ he put the paper away. It's… huh? What the hell is that?

She risks a few cautious and of course totally incidental steps in the direction of Team Kemp and thankfully gets to see a little better what was in the package. It's a little round object… a compass! Yes, that's it. Okay, so what's so special about a compass that Wells intently bites her lip and can't stop staring at Kemp as if she wants to absorb every little bit that could be a reaction? Maybe unobtrusively trying to catch a few bits of conversation might help… "I can't believe… is that really the one I lost?" Kemp asks Wells and… hey, that would explain a bit, actually.

"Yeah, it's the one you lost. Repeatedly," Faraday, the team's NCO and only Marine snorts and it earns him a mean glance from his CO. Oops.

That makes Wells snort. "Don't look at Adam like that. It's true. It didn't disappear nearly as often when _I_ had it." What? _Wells_ had the thing before? This is getting even more interesting by the minute and telling her that it had been a good idea to swap partners with Wells because _something_ had told her the little Lieutenant might be much happier with her CO for a gift partner than the guy she'd had before.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have trusted it to your care if I'd had the slightest doubt that you wouldn't be careful with it," Kemp scoffs at Wells but it looks and sounds a lot like he has to keep from laughing. Wells… did she just _blush_? Huh… "Anyway… whoever found this thing and gave it to me sure did go some length," Kemp adds and whistles a little… and suddenly the compass whistles a little melody – is that really Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us"? – in response. She almost broke out laughing but Kemp's reaction is even better.

The thing actually manages to make him look startled for just a moment and then he looks at the grinning members of his team, one by one, searching for something, just a little miffed… until his gaze returns to Wells and she could have sworn that for just a moment… he gives Wells a knowing grin and then something that looks like he's promising… to get back at her… and she blushes again… who would have thought.

Anyway, they're at L now and after Leidenberger, Llwelyn and Logarno are through… ah, look who finally got to the gift exchange. Looking just a little harried – she hopes it was just a minor catastrophe, seeing as he had a lot on his plate in the last few weeks – Evan comes walking over to her.

It's the first time today they actually see each other since this morning, she only half-consciously registered a peck on her cheek and then he'd been gone to deal with all the minor mishaps and major screw-ups that happen in the city on a daily base and she'd had to teach a load of classes ranging from self-defense for the female members of the Expedition to advanced organic chemistry, so she doesn't object when the hand he put on the small of her back when greeting her lingers just a moment too long to be casual.

But she also can't resist saying, "And here I thought you'd do the Grinch again."

Evan makes a face. "I really have no idea where you got the idea from that I have some problem with Christmas. I'm not Maureen Reece, you know." Uh-huh, right. It's only that _this_ year… she can't really detect anything of the "I don't care for Christmas" attitude Maureen became almost kind of famous for in the almost six years she spent on Atlantis in her fellow Marine. In fact… even though she tries her usual half-bored, half-annoyed look standing a few feet away with Moore, Morsberg and a few of the girls from the linguistics department, Maureen looks like she actually enjoys being here.

"I didn't say you have issues with Christmas. I just said you have issues with Secret Santa events," she replies and has to fight against the big amused grin that threatens to break through because of the frown that deepens on his forehead… but instead of dignifying her response with an answer, he turns back to listen intently to Sheppard… but the Colonel goes directly from Lombardi to Lue and… she could have _sworn_ she saw Evan's face fall at the realization that Sheppard never mentioned _Lorne_ in the parade of gift receivers.

It does make her feel a little sorry for him because even if no one else saw it, she did see that not receiving anything – in fact not even being _mentioned_ – got to him; the guy who's been the city's XO for almost five years now and who's seen so many of her inhabitants through small and not so small crises. With a silent sigh she leans over to him and whispers, "Maybe whoever got you was just too terrified to have you receive and unpack their gift in public."

"Yeah, or they just didn't… I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, almost huffing and damn, the grin just won't stay tucked away.

"Sure you don't. But just in case you do get an idea: I'm sure there's a perfectly normal explanation for it." She really is. It would be against all rules of nature that Atlantis' XO didn't get a Christmas gift in a Secret Santa that she had to convince him to take part in.

"Yeah, right. And I'm sure there's also a perfectly normal explanation for why Jenna "I don't even know how to spell blushing" Wells was just doing exactly that at something Kemp said." _Damn_. He really is too damn perceptive for his own damn good.

She can't help clearing her throat. "Now _I_ have no idea what you're talking about." He smirks and is probably about to say something like "The hell you do," but he doesn't get that far because it's Rodney's turn to receive and unpack his gift now and… That looks like a… a sign. With pink lettering. Huh?

"That sign doesn't really saying 'No parking, princess!', right? Please tell me it doesn't," Evan whispers but she's pretty sure she can detect a very amused undertone in his voice. Rodney, on the other hand… looks a little confused and then a lot like he'd rather like to do something terrible to Colonel Sheppard for making him join the Secret Santa thing _again_. She searches the crowd… ah yeah, good old Morsberg.

She _knew_ he'd not go easy on Rodney because he never does – and always gets away with it, the German speaking bastard – and she'd been kind of looking forward to it and she'd been looking forward even _more_ to all the other people coming after Rodney – a certain young officer whose name starts with a W most of all – but… her time is running out. She still has plans for today and if she doesn't go right now… A little regretful, she leans over to Evan again. "Hey, uh, farmboy… could you do me a favor?"

He frowns as Sheppard goes through Mbeki, Mehra and Merbusch. "As long as it doesn't involve reindeer's antlers or a spiking the punch…"

"Nah, don't worry. Just… stay until they're done, please? I gotta go but I'd love to know how this…" she takes great care that her rather vague hand wave in Team Kemp's direction looked absolutely accidentally, at least to anyone apart from Evan, "turns out."

However, to her dismay, Evan doesn't outright agree… but yeah, when would he ever? "Whatever you did, Laura… it won't work anyway. They'd kill each other before even getting around the next corner, let alone to a _bed_."

Pffft. She rolls her eyes. "Your judgment of your subordinates used to be a_ lot_ better, Major. Anyway… gotta go. Play nice and don't be mean to the other kids," she says and can't resist giving him a quick kiss on the cheek… and gets surprised when she feels him grabbing her wrist and pulling her back for an equally quick kiss on the lips.

"I _always_ play nice, Buttercup," he says and she's just _this_ close to adding that she has seen him play naughty on several occasions but decides against it. The kisses were pushing their luck way too much already and they're just lucky that Sheppard is fully engrossed in giving out presents… but did Wells just throw her a weird look? Okay, better really go now, seeing as Wells' father is her and Evan's boss. Of course everyone knows that Wells and her father aren't really on good footing but still… she needs to go. She really does.

So after giving Evan an admonishing look again, she makes her way out of the mess hall and mentally goes through all the things she still has to do. Yeah… it's going to be a busy rest of the day, that's for sure.


	5. The Prettiest Sight to See 2 of 2

**A/N:** Aaaand... here we go with the second part! And um... are you still with me, guys? Also... **mac** still hasn't succeeded in making Evan admit that he's apparently living in Egypt (that is... the land of Denial...) :D

* * *

**Two**

Yeah, right… stay until it's finished. The things he does for his Buttercup. As if it hadn't been enough that _he_ hadn't gotten anything; no, he'd also had to watch all the _other_ people getting presents.

Okay.

Right.

That sounds weird and really not what he'd call mature and _absolutely_ not what you'd expect from a 36 year old Major of the United States Air Force. But yeah, that thing is still gnawing at him, even though he refuses to give it much thought. And anyway, it's over now and he can finally retreat to the quarters he shares with Laura – that is, provided that the universe will let him and not push another minor or major catastrophe in his way – and shut all the other stuff out.

However, he's not quite sure what exactly he should tell her. There's a lot but… some of that would only serve to make her unnecessarily smug and he's not sure if he's in the mood for that. The whole Team Kemp thing for example… he shakes his head.

What the hell had Laura been thinking? He's pretty sure that whatever Kemp got – a compass, wasn't it? – he got it from Wells and he's positive that Kemp wasn't her original gift receiver. Because, you know, he has it on good authority that _last_ year Wells already drew Kemp and the odds of that happening _twice_ in direct succession are… okay, they aren't nil but it's not like they're 100% either.

_Someone_ was meddling in this and something tells him Wells didn't look actively for someone who would trade her Kemp because Wells never would do that. She just wouldn't. So _maybe_… _someone_ used her authority as the outranking officer to _make_ Wells trade and… and he's such an idiot.

Yeah, he should have seen _that_ one coming… and he should _never_ have told Laura that he'd drawn _Wells_ of all people. She'd rolled her eyes and said that she's a little fed up with everyone being intimidated by Wells simply because she's a General's daughter and jeez, couldn't anyone just see her for _herself_? He'd actually felt a little ashamed at that but still had felt compelled to trade her, even though trading had been absolutely forbidden. But damn, she's the daughter of his _boss_… and besides she's even more volatile than Laura and a _lot_ more grumpy and… and _spikier_ than any one of all the perpetually bad tempered people he knows.

So… he'd wanted to trade her with the first person crossing his path… and that had been Captain Matthew Kemp, commanding officer of SGA-6 and Lieutenant Jenna Wells' boss. For just a moment, the rational part of his brain had told him that he should go and find someone else but the rest had been glad to find someone who actually _knew_ Wells _and_ who could be persuaded to trade with him by the magic his oak leaves lend him sometimes.

Granted, Kemp hadn't been exactly overjoyed at the prospect of having to find something for Wells – he's pretty sure he actually saw something akin to apprehension or maybe concern cross Kemp's face for a moment or two – but he hadn't even needed to remind the Captain of who was responsible for his team's leave rotation, the kind of missions they got and just basically everything else that could make their lives hell for the Captain to comply.

He hadn't even had to remind the Captain that it wouldn't be the first time he got to give something to Wells for Christmas. Of course he's not supposed to know that last year, it might have been Rodney who drew Wells but it had been _Kemp_ who'd found the gift – an exceptionally pretty one at that, if his sources are correct, and John Sheppard usually gets those kind of things right – but… he wouldn't be doing his job right if he didn't know.

So yeah, he'd been stupid enough to trade Wells for Mehra to Kemp – he's still not sure who got the better end of this bargain in the end – and now Laura undoubtedly feels proven in her assumptions that there's something going on between Wells and Kemp… or maybe that there _could_ be something going on if they decided to see what Laura believes is already there. But there isn't anything. There really isn't.

No, really. There isn't. Despite Wells blushing at Kemp and Kemp not being able to just leave the compass she gave him – was that the one he saw Kemp slipping into her hand before Wells had to leave them temporarily because daddy thought she couldn't cut it? – be and Kemp sneaking Wells weird glances when she wasn't looking… No, there isn't.

And Laura would know that if she'd seen how Wells had reacted to what Kemp gave her. He still feels like rolling his eyes at himself but he actually complied with what Laura asked of him and stayed close enough to Team Kemp that he could notice what was going on. When it had finally been Wells' turn, she'd received… what had she received? Oh, right, a little kind of voucher for fighting lessons with Teyla.

To be honest, last year's gift from Kemp to Wells had been a little more… conventional, even if it fitted Wells. Sheppard had told him that Rodney had given Wells a geode that Kemp had found for her on some alien marketplace. The geologist in him had actually wanted to see it but the _superior_ in him had wondered what _exactly_ Kemp had been thinking. The thing had been pretty average and maybe even a little ugly on the outside… but if alien geodes are anything like Earth geodes, it must have been really pretty, if a little spiky on the inside.

When he'd told Laura about that in preparation for this year's Secret Santa… she'd just grinned and said something like "He really does know her well, doesn't he?" and he'd wondered what she had meant… only to realize that from what he'd gotten to see of Wells in the three years she'd been in Atlantis… Laura is probably right and he'd even agree if it weren't for the fact that he rarely got to see a different side of Wells than the hedgehog personality.

_Anyway_… this year, it had been fighting lessons and Wells hadn't been particularly thrilled, to say the least. She'd pretended not to know who gave them to her – or maybe she really _had_ been that blind, seeing as this is _Wells_ – and she had gone on grumbling and mumbling about whoever had that idea would soon realize that she certainly didn't need any lessons in hand to hand combat, thank you very much.

He'd been pretty amazed, though, at how calm Kemp had been. But yeah, okay, maybe he wouldn't have, hadn't it been for the other two members of his team. It's always astonishing, he thinks, how much of a balancing influence Ferrier and Faraday seem to have on Wells and Kemp, especially easy going Ferrier… if he remembers it correctly, he'd been one of Wells' classmates at the Academy and is probably the one person that can manage her as well as Anthony Wayne used to be able to. It's probably only to his credit that Wells and Kemp haven't killed each other yet.

Okay, and maybe to that of Faraday as well. The guy is the only NCO _and_ Marine in the team and _something_ – probably what he knows about the two Marine NCOs he has on _his_ team – tells him that there's more to Faraday than just the almost serene impression he seems to take great pains to hold up. He'd once tried to get it out of Laura if Faraday really is like that or if it's just an act to put those pesky Zoomie officers on his team off his back but she'd just given him a kind of enigmatic smile and said "What happens at Marine poker night, stays at Marine poker night" and that had been it.

So yeah… Ferrier and Faraday keep Kemp and Wells from killing each other and he thinks they probably did it tonight as well. Because after having received those fighting lessons… Wells really hadn't been in a good mood… it had been almost fouler than the mood she _usually_ is in. It had only been because of Ferrier casually pointing out that not everyone got fighting lessons from _Teyla_ that Wells had seemed to lighten up a bit again. He thinks he saw her sneaking Teyla a glance or two before being almost _pushed_ in her direction by the guys – again, the two Fs most of all – and walking up to Teyla.

When she had reached her and they started talking… he'd looked back at the team for a moment and… it had been weird but Kemp had looked apprehensive again, as if being really concerned how Wells would behave when talking to Teyla and… what had been even weirder had been the… _look_ on his face when Wells had come back, a full grown grin – something he practically _never_ got to see from that particular Lieutenant – on her face for a short moment before carefully schooling it back to her usual half-scowl. Kemp had looked… no, that's nonsense. Kemp had _not_ looked like a fully lit Christmas tree. No. Really, he hadn't.

Anyway… it's so not his business, whatever is going on between them – and he's really convinced that the only thing that _is_ going on is a still very difficult CO/XO relationship that only works because they're lucky to have Ferrier and Faraday on their team – and he'll also not tell Laura anything about it. Or, okay, he _will_ tell her what Wells got from Kemp but not much about her reaction. Yeah, that should work.

Now he also finally reached his quarters. With a heavy sigh he opens the door… and is a little bit surprised because Laura… isn't there. She said she had something to do but she never said anything about pulling an all-nighter, right? So… why isn't she sitting in the living room and… and why is there candle light coming from the bedroom? Okay, this is weird…

But what's even weirder is the sight that greets him when he opens the bedroom door. That… yeah, that's Laura alright, half sitting on the bed, wrapped in… green, red and gold Christmas ribbons. As in… practically from head to toe. There's a moment of stunned silence between the two of them – he even completely forgets about whatever he had wanted to tell her about Kemp and Wells – until he hears something coming from Laura that sounds very much like… laughter.

He can't help grinning. She's desperately trying to be serious and look at least a little sultry at him but all she can manage is barely hidden giggle and waving a slip of paper in her hand. Jesus fucking… _Laura_ is his Secret Santa. Because he's still a little too stunned to speak, Laura sees her chance and tries to say casually, "You know, I figured you'd not be very partial to having your wife sitting in plain sight of everyone… like _this_."

Smirking, he takes a few steps toward her, until he's close enough that he can touch her. "You bet I'm not," he says and it sounds a little like growling because fuck, she's _naked_ under those ribbons and she spent half the evening for dressing like this and she did it _just for him_.

Very carefully, she manages to get up and closes the last bit of distance between them. "I hope you like what I got you."

"Yeah," he says and tugs a little at the ribbon covering her neck, "after all, my favorite part of the whole gift thing was always the unwrapping."

"Thought so," she replies and then leans in close to him and he can smell the cinnamon scented shampoo she only uses for special occasions and then she whispers, "Merry Christmas, farm boy."

Well… there's only one thing left to do for him now, so he moves to bring his lips close to her ear and whispers back, "Merry Christmas, Buttercup," and that's really the only thing he's able to say and so he _finally_ starts to unwrap her. Damn, it's good to be married, is the last thought he has before indulging in things that… require less thinking and a lot more acting and well… it's definitely going to be one of the best Christmas Days _ever_.


	6. Possibly the Complications

**A/N:** Okay, so... this... is _**NOT**_ a happy fic. I felt like writing some Laura!whump again and I _might _have gotten carried away, just a little... oh, who am I kidding. This one is bad. As in "might trigger very unpleasant stuff" bad, of the very traumatic kind. Thing is, I don't want to give the plot twist away, but if you're very sensitive to stuff such as rape, emotional trauma, miscarriage, torture, etc... please be careful when reading this. I really don't want to offend or hurt anyone with this, so if you think anything of this might trigger something... maybe don't read it, okay?

Also, thanks so much to **mac** for betaing this, even though it wasn't exactly easy for her! Mac rocks!

Oy, and I almost forgot: timeline wise, this takes place maybe two or three weeks after _Air Force Wife_ and about three or two months before _The Government Conspiracy Job_. If you're reading TGCJ and don't want to read this, there will be allusions to it in TGCJ, also including the traumatic plot twist I was talking about but it'll be much less explicit than here. I hope that will be okay for you.

* * *

**Possibly the Complications**

"_I can't get to sleep  
I think about the implications  
Of diving in too deep  
And possibly the complications"_

_Colin Hay, "Overkill"_

"Where is she?" he bellows down the corridor and doesn't even stop to hear the answer.

And anyway, the only answer he gets is, "Major… no… you can't… Major Lorne!" from a nurse behind him but he doesn't care, just keeps on rushing through the infirmary… even though he doesn't really know _where_ to go. But dammit, she's here somewhere… she _has_ to be. Training accident, they told him. Surgery, severe injury… he doesn't even remember what exactly they told him on the phone because the moment he'd heard the words "surgery" in combination with "training accident", there had been a kind of… haze surrounding him.

Dammit, where the hell… "Evan!" Not another one trying to keep him from seeing his… "Evan! You stop right there or I will _make_ you." For some reason… that does make him stop. Jennifer Keller may _look_ all blond and cute and non-threatening but everyone knows what she can do with sharp and pointy objects… _and_ she's been in the SGC's infirmary for two weeks now, for some training and the exchange of experiences with Carolyn Lam and God knows what Lam taught her.

Trying to catch his breath, his gaze lingers almost longingly on the entrance to ICU but he forces himself to look at Keller. "Jennifer… I need to see her. Where the hell _is_ she?"

"ICU." Right, that's what he thought. Without another word, he wants to brush past her but he feels the pressure of a small hand around his arm. "Evan… listen, we… we need to talk." But he doesn't want to talk. He wants to see Laura, wants to see that she's okay… even though the part of his mind that's still rational knows that if she's in ICU she very much is _not_ okay. "Evan!"

At the sound of her voice, he pulls himself together and forces himself to look at her again… and he wishes he hadn't. The first thing he notices is how _weary_ she looks… and then that she must have come straight from the OR, seeing as her hair is in a very messy bun and… and that she hasn't changed out of her scrubs yet. For some reason, the moment he realizes that the stains on her scrubs are _blood_, he feels like someone knocked the wind from his lungs. Only his years of training and service help him keep it together now.

He takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the feeling that he needs to lean against the wall in his back. "Yeah. What is it?"

Keller runs a hand over her hair. "First of all… Laura's stable now." Right. If she's stable _now_… what the hell happened _before_? "We just finished surgery and… yeah, she's in ICU now." From the look of it… must have been one hell of a surgery. Oh crap. "It was… quite a piece of work but there's nothing permanent and I'm pretty sure that she'll bounce back."

Of course she will. She _always_ bounces back. Running a hand through his hair and throwing another look towards ICU, he asks her, "What the hell _happened_, Jennifer? No one told me anything. Not on the phone, not during the ride, not even at Peterson. What's going _on_ here?"

This is ridiculous. Laura is his _wife_, goddammit, it's their _duty_ to inform him of everything that happened. He _knows_ that, he's been on the _other_ side often enough. Keller is pretty much aware of that as well, he can see that. "They told you already it was an accident during training, right?" He nods. "Okay, so… she lost a considerable amount of blood and we had to pull out a lot of splinters, had to remove her spleen, repair some damage to her ribs… she was lucky that nothing was punctured. But… I can assure you, Evan, she'll be okay."

Oh God, that sounds like… like she came here half dead. Training… she was supposed to be _training_, not go out to war. "She's… how can she be _okay_?"

"Surgery went well, Evan. And she came here in time. Trust me." Okay… okay, he can do that. He's known Keller for at least five or four years now and even though she's still not what you'd expect as the COM of a base like Atlantis, he knows that she _is_ one thing and that's an exceptional doctor. He wants to tell her that yes, he does trust her but she adds, "There's… another thing I have to tell you, Evan."

What _else_, dammit? "Jennifer, can I please _see_ her? Whatever it is, you can tell me on the way to her, right?" Please, he thinks… just let me _see_ her. Let me see with my own eyes that she's okay.

For a moment, she hesitates but then she nods and starts walking in the direction of the ICU. He falls into step with her, not knowing what's worse… the anxiousness at how she'll look or at what Jennifer is about to tell him. Expecting her to tell him right away what it is, he's surprised that for a few steps she doesn't say anything… and then suddenly, they're standing at the foot of her bed.

It takes him a moment to take in what he sees and to fully register what this – wires and monitors and a fucking _tube_ in her mouth – means but when it does get through, he can't help having to put a hand on the railing of her bed. God, it used to be so easy not to show what's going on in his head and heart.

Keller seems to have seen at least a little bit of the effect this has on him and gives him something that's probably meant to be an encouraging smile. "It looks worse than it is, Evan. We'll keep her in an artificial coma for two more days, to help her body heal."

A coma? They're keeping her in a _coma_ and it looks worse than it is? "I'm not stupid, Jennifer. Don't try any doctor tricks on me."

"And I'm not, Evan." Seems like Keller's patience is starting to run out as well but dammit… what did she expect from him? "She _will_ be okay again. But we used some Tok'ra technology to help her and for it to take any effect, we need to keep her in a coma for two more days. Look, if you want to, I can explain to you in great detail what exactly we did but… there's something I need to tell a lot more urgently."

Right. She already told him Laura arrived here half-dead, that some freaky alien technology was used on her – and he hopes for her sake that it didn't involve anything only loosely resembling nanites – and that she'll be in a coma for two more days. He really has no idea what _else_ there could be. There really is _nothing_ that could make this any worse. "Fine. Tell me."

She takes a deep breath. "Laura… was pregnant."

Empty. For at least a few seconds, his mind is completely empty. Wiped clean, with only three little words. He actually has to walk a few steps, has to turn away from Keller, to keep her from seeing how he momentarily gives up on his usual appearance of impassiveness in the face of a disaster. And _then_… the worst of it all registers. "_Was_?"

Keller nods, and when she answers him, her voice sounds like she tries to be all business. "Yes, she was. Judging by her blood tests and the… the size of the… well, judging by her blood tests, she must have been somewhere in the first four weeks. In the first trimester it's… pretty common that when… the mother's body has to deal with a great amount of physical and/or mental stress that… the pregnancy is terminated pre-maturely."

He tries to comprehend what Keller tells him, really honestly tries but somehow… he horribly fails to. Laura… Laura had been pregnant when she went on the training mission and when she came back, she wasn't anymore. That he gets. Anything else… his mind refuses to process. "How… why didn't… what the hell happened to regular physicals?"

Grimacing lightly, Keller says, "She had her last four weeks ago and was scheduled for her next in two days. Evan… I'm… I'm so sorry."

_Sorry_ doesn't even begin to cover it. He looks at Laura again and the dull pain he'd felt in his chest since they called him grows to a heavy throbbing that momentarily makes him wonder if he's going to suffocate from everything inside of him. Laura had come back here, in pain, _losing a baby_, and he wasn't there, couldn't tell her everything would be alright, however much out of it she'd probably been. She'd still have heard him, somehow, he _knows_ that. But he wasn't there and he didn't get to tell her and… Taking a deep breath, he tries to get a grip on himself again. "Is… is it permanent?"

"You mean, if she still can have children?" He nods, somehow glad that he didn't actually have to spell it out. "We can't say with a 100 per cent certainty yet but from everything we _could_ see, I'd say it's very likely. She'll have to get another check-up some time next week to really make sure that everything's okay, though."

That's… that's good, right? No, wait… it isn't. Because if she has to have a check-up and it's out of turn… "When's her next routine check-up due?"

Not quite comprehending what he's trying to get at, she frowns. "Can't say from the top of my head." Somehow… he doesn't really believe that. "Evan… what's this about?"

He glances at Laura again, his gaze straying from her pale face to her abdomen and back to her face, trying to imagine how she will react to the news that she won't only need weeks of rehab to get back in shape but also lost a child she didn't even know she was expecting. But all he can come up with is… _not_ good. He knows Laura had – still has – misgivings about becoming pregnant, not feeling ready for it yet and he's pretty sure that something like this definitely won't make her more partial to it. In fact, he thinks, it'll confuse her even more and scare her – although she'd never admit _that_ – and will give her all kinds of issues. But above it all… it will _hurt_ her.

Jesus… three months on Earth, no idea how many more, three months to go until the wedding of _doom_ and there will be rehab for her now when she wakes up, and her duty and research of course and… and she doesn't need just _another_ thing on her plate. "Jennifer… can I ask something of you?"

Weary and a little… annoyed, she wipes a hand over her face. "Evan…"

"Don't tell her, Jennifer." He knows he probably should have let her finish whatever she'd been about to say but… right now, he feels the strong urge to make sure that no one tells Laura. Or at least no one but him. However, Jennifer looks like she'd beg to differ. "No, wait, listen. I'm just asking you to let _me_ be the one to tell her."

"I… I can't do that, Evan. I'm her doctor and it's _my_ job to tell her everything that has to do anything with her health." Of course. And usually, he wouldn't interfere with it but… somehow… this is… _different_.

"I know." She doesn't look like she believes it. "Seriously, Jennifer, I do." He really, really does but he can't really think straight with Laura lying there, so still and pale and _fragile_ and the only thing he _does_ know is that he doesn't want the additional weight of a miscarriage on her shoulders when she wakes up. "I _will_ tell her. I just… look, Jennifer… Laura… and pregnancy… was a difficult issue already and this will only make it worse. If she has to be told about it… I want to do it myself. Because I'm the one who knows her best." Keller _still_ doesn't look convinced. Dammit, is that really so hard to understand? "Telling her now or in a week or maybe even in two… would actually do more bad than good. _You_ have to trust _me_ with this. I _know_ when the right moment is."

It's a lie and he knows it and from the look of it, Keller knows it as well. Or, well, it's not exactly a _lie_ but… yeah, he's aware of the fact that for this kind of thing the 'right' moments are only very rare. But still… he's _married_ to her. If there _is_ such a thing as a good moment for this, doesn't that make him the one to recognize it best? "Evan… it'll be in her records. I can't change _that_. Every doctor in the program can look them up and it's not that unlikely that there will also be others than me treating her."

She's right. Of course she's right. But it's not like he's planning to _never_ tell Laura. He just doesn't want someone else than him to tell her, even if Jennifer is a friend of Laura's. "I'll tell her, Jennifer. And I promise, I'll do it as soon as possible."

Still not convinced… but wavering. "She'll need follow-up exams, Evan. And, okay… yeah, if I remember it right, her routine OB check-up was part of the physical that was scheduled anyway… I guess, it won't look anything out of the ordinary if I give her one once she's recovered a bit."

Did she just… agree with his plan? "That… would be great. Thank you, I uh…"

"One more thing, Evan: when you decide to tell her, inform me of it before you actually do. I certainly won't let you do my job without me even being present." Well… Jennifer Keller sure did come a long way. He does remember a time when she'd been a lot less confident, even in medical matters. And something tells him that it isn't _only_ Dr. Lam's efforts that inspired this in her.

He swallows. "Of course. I can just… Again, thank you, Jennifer."

Looking a little exhausted, she nods. "It's okay. And I guess you'd… like to keep her company now, huh?" At that, he can only nod, feeling his chest constrict once more with the familiar ache that seeing Laura wounded always brings and the yearning to touch her, tell her somehow that he's here and that he'll take care of her now. "Right. I'll… come by in a few hours, to check on her… and on you, okay?"

"Yeah." It's astounding, he thinks, how much Keller can change in the space of a few moments. From one second to the next, she can go from 5' 5'' of pure COM attitude to a petite figure in scrubs that seems to keel over any given moment. He sighs. "And Jennifer? Get some sleep. You really do need it."

At that, she just makes a face but doesn't contradict him, only… moves to hug him with surprising strength. Huh. Okay, alright, yes, Laura is her friend, too and until now it didn't really register with him that this is affecting Keller as well so he moves to hug her back. "I'm sorry, Evan," she chokes out and he wants to tell her that she doesn't have anything to be sorry for, "but she _will_ be okay again, don't worry." Keller gives him an awkward little smile, looking somehow guilty and then takes her leave and shuffles off, hopefully to catch a few hours of sleep. Because, if she doesn't, Ronon will probably want to have a little chat in private with _him_… in the work-out room.

But yeah, right now, he has more pressing concerns. There's a chair placed at her right side – the one where there are no IVs in her arm or hand – and feeling tired all of a sudden, he kind of slumps down. Gingerly, he takes Laura's hand in his and puts a soft kiss to its back. If he'd just been there with her on that planet, maybe she wouldn't be here now and maybe she wouldn't have lost the baby and… and this is pointless. It really, really is and so he tries to shove it all away and concentrate on the present.

"It's gonna be okay," he hears himself saying with a voice as hoarse as if he'd been shouting at recruits for the past two hours non-stop and he wonders if he's saying it to her or to himself, "_you_'re gonna be okay. You'll be fighting with your mother over the guest list in no time flat, I just bet you will. I _know_ you will."

There's something else he wants to tell her but it takes him at least a minute of struggling to be able to actually voice it. When he finally brings himself to do it, his voice is barely audible but at least he really _says_ it, "And we'll have another baby. When you're ready for it, I mean. I _promise_ we will."

He made the promise as much for her as for himself and somehow it feels kind of good to actually say it out loud. Because… it makes it seem so much more possible that it _will_ happen, somehow, someday… and hopefully someday soon. And so he settles in for at least two days of simply waiting and not moving an inch away from her side, determined to do whatever she needs him to do so she'll be fine again. It's what husbands do, after all.


	7. Striking a Match

**A/N:** This one's solely for **mac** who requested Simmons/Wilson smut. It takes place directly after _A Quarter After One_ and _kind_ of shows Miss Wilson's side to the whole fight thing. It also warrants a language warning because good God, Miss Wilson does have a _very_ potty mouth (but **mac** is very proud of her, she said).

* * *

**Striking a Match**

"_It's just an on again  
And off again situation  
It's just striking a match  
A tank of gas combination  
But here I am again lighting it up  
Knowing that she'll just burn me__"_

_Lady Antebellum, "Love This Pain"_

He's an idiot. She's utterly convinced that he is and it definitely will _not_ change. Not ever. Seriously.

And, of course, she's an idiot as well. Because she shouldn't be thinking of that idiot but she still _is_, even though she should be sleeping because they have a major system overhaul tomorrow and Rodney McKay is nearly unbearable when she has had sufficient sleep. When she hasn't… suffice to say that the probability that it could get ugly is excessively heightened.

So she rolls over just _another_ time and… and then her door bell rings and she groans. Whoever that is… they will have to wait. This is really _no_ time to call on _anyone_, not even the – alleged, in her case – night owls from the IT department. Another chime. _No_. No, no, no. Not… another. Jesus… she gets up, stomps towards the door to give the intruder what they deserve… and stops dead in her tracks when the door opens.

Joe. Fucking. Simmons. Her initial reaction is just to gape at him… and then her stupid brain makes her blurt out, "What the _hell_ are you _doing_ here?"

_His_ first reaction is to furrow his brows and then rub his neck. "Well… uh… Yoda sent me."

What the… "Are you trying to tell me that a small grammatically challenged alien in flowing robes sent you here?" This is getting better and better by the minute. Well, not.

Joe tries to look at least _somewhat_ dignified… but fails miserably. "Um… basically… yeah." She wants to shut the door in his face again but then again… this really isn't her usual quiet, dutiful, _sensible_ boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Whatever.

_Anyway_, he's standing in front of her and driveling on about stuff that doesn't make sense and something in her – probably that stupid little land girl that could never see a creature suffer – makes her frown at him and step aside. "Fine. Whatever," she huffs and she pretends to herself that there was no trace of relief in her voice _whatsoever_.

Hesitating just a little bit, he takes her invitation and walks in. They come to stand in the middle of the room and she crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively. "Well?"

He rubs his neck again, looks a little forlornly. "Well, I wanted to… I wanted to apolo… what the hell are you wearing?"

Uh… _excuse_ me, she wants to say and involuntarily looks down at the shirt she's wearing – it has the words "Submariners do it underwater!" with a picture of a _Los Angeles_ class submarine boldly plastered all over its front – and then kind of dumbly says, "Uh… a shirt?" because the near _disgust_ on his face caught her unaware.

"No," he says and the frown deepens considerably, "it's a _Navy_ shirt."

"So _what_?" she finds herself saying and wondering why _exactly_ she let him in. It's one of her brothers' shirts – Jimmy, who's a Petty Officer serving on the _Annapolis_ – and what the _hell_ is wrong with wearing a Navy shirt?

Okay, she _knows_ what's wrong with wearing a Navy shirt, at least in his pretty little Air Force head. But this is just _ridiculous_. And what's even _more_ ridiculous is what he states next, "_My_ girlfriend will _not_ wear a Navy shirt."

Wha… this… this is just… she can't even… _what_? "That's pretty convenient then," she replies with enough acid in her voice to be a competition for McKay on one of his not so good days, "because you don't _have_ a girlfriend."

She's not sure but for a moment it looked like he almost recoiled physically from the blow she just dealt him and she feels a little… sorry for that. But dammit, they _both_ made it clear to each other that they just don't _work_ and why doesn't he see that, for fuck's sake?

They're standing in the room and he's still looking at her, looking just a little bit like a wounded puppy and she remembers how they met and how they started to spend time with each other and how she had to hit him over the head so he finally realized just _how much_ head over heels she was for him… "Then what if I came to apologize to said girlfriend… not-girlfriend… to you, I mean."

Aw, damn, no, not the flustered and confused country boy act again. That _always_ makes her knees go weak and her heart beat just a little faster because he's just so _adorable_ when he does that and… and it's not enough to let him off the hook. No, no. It's definitely not. She huffs again. "Then you're doing a lousy job of it. Usually it's not a good idea to start _another_ fight."

He looks contrite and a little chuffed when he replies, "And I wasn't trying to."

Uh-huh, yeah, right… okay, no, he wasn't. He just got distracted from apologizing to her by the Air Force part of his brain. Well, she thinks… maybe… if she gets rid of the offending item… "So…" she says and takes the shirt off, in a kind of spur off the moment decision.

"So…" Joe says and then… stares at her. Just… that. Stares and licks his lips, just once. _Jesus_.

"Uh… Joe, it's not like you've never seen a naked girl before, right?" In fact, it's not even like he hasn't seen _her_ naked before. Granted, usually, it's rather half-naked, in some nook or cranny or one of the ever famous storage closets but yes, he _has_ seen her naked breasts before. She rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. "Oh for the love of everything that has to do with sex…"

He swallows, then looks like he's _this_ close to grinning. Running a hand through his hair, he clears his throat and says, "Uh, well, it's just that… I wasn't exactly prepared for _this_ tonight, Buckle Bunny." One day, she thinks, she _will_ give him what he deserves for that _stupid_ nickname… most probably it'll the day he uses it in _public_.

For now, though… physical retaliation will have to do and before she knows it, she has whacked him on the arm, like she always used to do during their courting phase… holy crap, why is there suddenly his hand around her wrist and God, that _grin_ on his face… "Been a while since you did that, Bunny." She wants to say something but suddenly his face is so close to hers and she swallows… sees him swallow as well… and then he says in that strange husky voice that usually preceded a… tryst in a storage room, "Damn, I missed that."

And then his lips are on hers and she kinda forgets why exactly she broke up with him. Mh… damn, that feels great… always did and – oh God – always will. She really wants to be shocked but for some reason… there isn't much place for shock in her head, with all the… _wooziness_ and the instinct – the _urge_ – to kiss him back.

That is, until it dawns on her that this might have been a pretty clever move to distract her from his less than stellar attempt at apologizing and she breaks the kiss, fighting very hard against the want – the _need_ – to put her arms around his neck, bury her hands in his hair, put them on the skin of his back… no, focus. Focus on the apology he still owes you, she tries to admonish herself.

Needing all her will power she takes a step back – actually, it's just the excuse of a step back because she's not even sure if she actually _moved_ – and folds her arms, only slightly aware of the fact that it does _nothing_ to hide _any_ part of her cleavage. "Not so fast, McSmartypants. You really don't think that I'd let you off the hook just because you kiss me like that and because you look at me like that and… and… stop being so… so… just stop, okay?"

What? What's so funny about that that he can't keep the amused grin from his face? "Stop _what_?" Oh he knows exactly what… "Do you mean _that_?" And there's another kiss and… and… ah hell.

"At least," she pants when he is done kissing her very thoroughly and tugs at his shirt, "let's get even first, shall we?"

He grins and somehow it makes her feel all warm and weird inside to know that she's the only one here who ever gets to see _this_ grin. "With pleasure, Bunny." Right… and _that_ makes her feel it makes her feel… it's absolutely of no consequence how that makes her feel because he pulls the shirt over his head and there's moonlight from outside playing over his lean and well trained body and that sight always kind of makes her forget everything she had been about to say or think or _feel_ before.

Without another word she plays over his nicely toned abdomen and then grabs his track pant's waistband to drag him into the direction of her bed and thank God he gets the hint. Somehow they managed to get to her bed _and_ get rid of his pants and her shorts and then they're naked and he's pulling her downwards to him and they just can't stop kissing…

She can't help making little sounds of pleasure and he returns them with a growl here and a groan there… but somehow, she can't quite get rid of the feeling of _weirdness_ and it drives her half-crazy not to know where it's coming from… "You do realize that this is the first time _ever_ that we're actually doing a _horizontal_ mambo, right?"

What… oh. Oh, yes, _that_ actually might be what made her feel so weird about this. They're both completely naked and there's no pressure to get done with it because someone might need something from _that_ particular storage closet and well, they're definitely not doing it against a wall. In fact, he's leaning against the head board with one of his hands in her hair and the other on her hip and she's leaning over him and their legs are kind of entangled… well, it's not like she _never_ did it horizontally before. She can't help snorting and saying, "Oh, just shut the fuck up."

"Fuck," he says and grins, "being the operative word, of course." _Goddammit_, why does he keep doing that? Being all prim and proper during day and in the company of others and being like _that_ when it's just them… his little bouts of being very, very improper always make her want to do a lot of _other_ improper things to him and she thinks that this is probably what he wants to achieve with being like that and ah hell, why not just give it to him, then?

And so she sets to work and keeps kissing him and placing her hands wherever it elicits one of those groans from him and he slides down a little further onto the bed every time she manages to find another sensitive spot and _oh_ he just found quite a lot of _her_ sensitive spots… thankfully, there's another minute or so that she manages to stay lucid and in those she blindly reaches for her nightstands drawer… where… oh, right, _there_ they are… "You actually keep a stash of _those_ in here?" he disbelievingly utters when he sees what she's unpacking a little clumsily, seeing as she's kind of preoccupied with other regions of her body and then he adds, "Aren't you all on that Pegasus pills stuff anyway?"

Ah yeah, apparently, statistics hadn't been his strong point at the Academy and even now that elicits a raised eyebrow from her. "Uh yeah… precautions and failure rates and everything?" Because you know, when you add up all the times they had their little trysts and the proven failure rates and… okay, screw statistics, she thinks, and doesn't even hand him over the condom when he reaches for it but gets it done herself – not without pushing him a little further with it, mind you – and oh God who knew doing it horizontally with him would be even so much better than in the vertical variation and who knew he'd be even better at slow and sweet than at quick'n'dirty and…

And then it's no thought anymore, just _feeling_ and good _God_ she wishes it wouldn't end and keeps holding on to it – to _him_ – as long as she can, losing herself in him and with him and hoping he won't stop and… and well, it does end after an amount of time she can't pinpoint and isn't even mildly interested in doing so anyway but of course he's still there and they linger locked in an embrace for a few more moments.

Then she slides off him and after a few minutes of getting busy to settle down for sleeping she finds herself in his arms again… but before she finally lets herself drift off to sleep she can't help snorting and drawling, "You were supposed to apologize, you know."

"You took your shirt off, you know," is the immediate, if a little sleepy, reply and it makes her look up to see a matching sleepy grin on his face.

Somehow, suddenly… she remembers the actual _reason_ for why they broke up and well, the thing is, even though it went into a completely different direction he _had_ come here to apologize to her and she knows that apologizing is not his strong feat so well, that has to count for something. So maybe… she should make a concession as well. She refrains from taking a deep breath and says, trying to sound casual, "By the way, Joe… I'll think about that visit to your parents. I'm not saying I'm going right now but… I'll think about it."

There's a little sigh from him and a kiss dropped on the top of her head and somehow… that tells her that he got her exactly how she meant it and that surprises her because it _is_ a big step forward. So maybe… there is some hope for them, after all… and well, if spectacular fights like the one that caused all of this always produce spectacular results like the one they just enjoyed… she thinks she'll have to learn to live with them. There are worse things than that, aren't there?


	8. Loving, Losing, Forgetting, Forgiving

**A/N:** I'm sorry for posting them all in what seems (and probably _is_) more or less random order but you know, the bunnies refuse to be chronological. _So_ this takes place after _A Quarter After One_ and _Striking a Match_, so also between _Good Intentions_ and _A Little Place Like Kokomo_ (note to self: add story to Big Damn Timeline table... yes, I need an MS Excel table now, why do you ask? Also, I'd maybe even be willing to send it to anyone interested after looking it over once again with **mac** and probably creating a spoiler free version, so if anyone would like to have it... just tell me). But I'll back with new chapters (and a couple of one shots) for Fred aka _The Government Conspiracy Job_ in the next couple of weeks if mac can somehow escape her 28 h day schedule. How's that?

* * *

**Protect and Survive: Loving, Losing****, Forgetting, Forgiving**

„_Verlieben, verlieren,  
vergessen, verzeihen,  
gehören, zerstören  
und doch keine Nacht allein.  
Keine Sekunde bereu'n."_

_Münchner Freiheit, „Verlieben, verlieren"_

Okay, so… maybe she shouldn't have forgotten her water shoes after all. And _maybe_ she shouldn't have listened to the female soldiers telling her that 'the water is perfectly safe… at least not any less safe than in any war zone on Earth'… actually, maybe she shouldn't have tagged along with them _at all_. Because if she'd been a good little overly careful girl, she'd probably have spared herself an overnight trip to the infirmary because of some unidentifiable sea creature's bite or scratch or whatever.

But hey, at least it got her a slap on the shoulder from Dusty Mehra for gritting her teeth and doing a pretty good impersonation of the whole 'It's just a scratch' act the female soldiers like to pull off, even more often than the guys. But then again, having had to fight her way through several years of academic education in computer science among overconfident males and more than one male prodigy, convinced he was the next Bill Gates made her understand what the act was all about and she didn't have much difficulty doing the same thing.

Unfortunately, Dr. Cole didn't really buy her act – she probably wouldn't have either in her stead, considering that the bite or scratch had turned an ugly shade of dark red and her face a not so pretty shade of white by the time they'd reached Atlantis – and gave her an antidote and ordered her to stay the night, no buts allowed. She'd honestly have put up a fight but something in the antidote had made her very, very sleepy all of a sudden and she'd all but passed out.

That had been six hours ago and now that she finally woke up again, it's in the middle of the night. All her friends are either asleep or working, Joe is off-world, the night nurse seems much too engrossed in a well-worn paperback that looked suspiciously like a vampire romance… and she's _bored_.

So, despite knowing full well she's supposed to stay in bed, she decided that a little walk was in order… even if it's more like slowly limping her way around. However, so far, she's still bored because apparently, she happens to be the only patient for ton… oh, maybe not. She just spotted movement in one of the other wards and inches a little closer to the door to see who's in there. Another step… huh.

The sight that presents itself to her surprises her a little. From where she stands, she can see a patient lying in one of the beds, only a mess of red curls on the pillow visible from her angle… and a man sitting in a chair by the bedside… Major Thomas Moore, to be precise. He's sitting close to Captain Reece's head – she assumed that it's Captain Reece in the bed, deducting from the red curls and the fact that Major Moore surly doesn't know any other redheads well enough to sit by their bedside in the middle of the night – his feet propped up and a small heap of papers in his lap.

She knows she should just walk on but there's something about this… that makes her unable to tear her gaze away. At first she thought he was asleep but then he moves to scribble something down… while he gently – and probably not even consciously – brushes a foot against the Captain's feet.

At that, there's slight movement beneath the covers and he stops looking at the paperwork in his lap and instead concentrates on Captain Reece, a frown on his face. Apparently… something worries him – at least that's how she interprets the frown because unlike a lot of other people she's pretty sure that he does have feelings – enough that he puts down the pen for a moment and readjusts the Captain's covers… even though she's pretty sure they don't need any readjusting. In fact… she's has a feeling that it was just Major Moore doing _something_ to make sure the Captain is okay because that's what her mom always used to fuss over her or her siblings whenever they were sick or injured.

When he's done with the readjusting, he takes up the pen again, but now she can see that he isn't really paying attention to whatever he's reading. Basically everything in his body language suggests that his entire interest lies in the woman on the bed, not… "Whoever you are lurking there in the doorway, either you get lost really fast or you show your face. Otherwise I might feel compelled to show you what I usually do to lurkers."

What the… how did he… holy _crap_. He didn't even look up from his papers. Joe was _right_. Major Moore _does_ posses some really creepy Black Ops special powers. And here she thought that was just Joe trying to screw around with her head. But yeah, her nana always told her not to lurk around and always be upfront and her nana was a very wise – and sometimes equally creepy – woman so she decides against hightailing it and takes a few steps into the room, hoping it didn't look as tentative as it felt. Taking care _not_ to clear her throat before speaking, she says, "Evening, sir."

Now Moore does look up and for a moment, there's something that looks like mild surprise on his face. "Evening, Wilson." And then something very interesting happens. It's not big… he doesn't even change his posture or takes his feet off the bed… but _something_ changes and suddenly she sees the Major Moore everyone is used to. A subtle aura of arrogance, like he knows exactly what he's capable of – and what others _aren't_ – mixed with a sense of distance, like he tries to keep everyone at arms length. "So… take it the foot got better?"

Huh? Oh… oh, right, apparently he knows why she's here. Wouldn't have been Major Moore if he didn't know that, after all. So she doesn't even try to deny her stupidity at trampling over some alien sea creature and nods. "Yeah. At least it stopped feeling like something tried to gnaw its way up to my leg a while ago."

It actually manages to elicit a sardonic half-smile from him. "Good for you. Hope it taught you what not to forget again."

She's tempted to stick out her tongue and give him a sarcastic "Yes, mom," like she would do if Joe had said it but then again… he's kind of her superior… no, scratch that. He _is_ her superior and he's also superior in rank to _Joe_ and despite having a decent sense of humor – when he wants to and most importantly when he isn't sporting some injury or other, that is – she has a feeling he won't take lightly to _that_. So instead she opts for, "Yeah, it certainly did, sir."

Then her gaze shortly falls on Captain Reece again, who's currently curled up on her side, facing the Major and apparently sound asleep. Now that she's a little closer, she can also see a cast on the Captain's right hand peeking from beneath the covers and one or two bruises and cuts on her face. Seems like someone had a tough mission today. And because she does like Captain Reece whenever she runs into her or the Captain takes the time and drops by the computer labs when they're working with Major Moore, she means it when she asks, "Hope you don't mind me asking but… is the Captain okay?"

Damn, that was a stupid question and she half-expects the Major snap back something like 'Well, what does it look like, Wilson?' and he does look like he's about to do that for a moment but all she gets is a slightly weary sounding, "Yeah, just got a little banged up. We… she can handle it."

Did he just say _we_? Yes, he pretty much did. He tried to gloss it over but she did hear him start the sentence with a we. "Of course you… I mean the Captain can handle it." Oops.

"I heard that, Wilson." Oh, damn. But it had just been too tempting not to sneak that in. "Anyway… she's gonna be fine." Yeah, sure, she wants to answer, it's not like she's injured in any way, but then she realizes that… Moore probably said that as much for her benefit as for _his_.

There's a moment of silence and she's inclined to leave because she started to get the feeling that he'd rather be alone with the Captain but he's faster. "So…" he starts and she gets a feeling that this part of the conversation won't be about him or the Captain, "I heard you're dating Lieutenant Simmons."

Her first reflex is to say 'Yeah, kind of' but Joe had been right that usually, you don't 'kind of' date people. You date them… or you don't. And since she preferred dating Joe to _not_ dating Joe, she agreed and stopped with the 'kind of'. But that doesn't mean she has to be forthcoming about it. "Yeah, I am. What about it?"

Okay, not very forthcoming shouldn't equal passive-aggressive. "Oh, just trying to make conversation, seeing as you don't look like you're inclined to go back to bed any time soon and _I_ am not inclined to leave here anytime soon." Oh, okay, this is turning into one of his 'I'm bored, and the sole reason of your existence is to be here to entertain me' spells, obviously. She'd been able to dodge the first two, mainly because Captain Reece had come in at the right moment and dragged him with her… to comply with his wish, no doubt about it.

"Well, I was just… uh… I wanted to…" He grins.

"See if anyone was awake apart from Nurse Rogers?" She only gets to nod, feeling a little defeated. "Of course only because you're bored. Lieutenant McSmartypants being off-world has nothing to do with it." Dammit, she _knew_ she should have never called him that in public. Ever since she did it, that nickname keeps resurfacing on name tags, in conversations, on duty rosters… until now, Joe hadn't done anything about it apart from patiently enduring the teasing and taunting but she has a feeling that one day he _will_ get back at her. Probably by calling _her_ the infuriating "Buckle Bunny" he invented for her in public.

_Anyway_… not the topic here right now. Right now, Major Moore just implied that the thing that's keeping her awake isn't her screwed up sleeping patterns but the fact that Joe is gone on a routine babysitter mission with his team, not expected to be back until tomorrow evening. Which it is not. Seriously, she's not concerned. Why should she be? "No, it doesn't. He's a soldier. I knew what I was getting myself into when things got serious with him." She even adds a shrug, as if she has to underline further just _how_ unconcerned she is.

"Did you now, huh?" the Major mumbles, now facing away from her and grazing Captain Reece's sleeping form with a glance that looks… worried? What is _that_ supposed to mean?

She straightens up, unwilling to let him continue implying that she stumbled into this like a clueless country bumpkin. Just because she grew up on a farm in the Mid-West it doesn't mean she's some ignorant hillbilly girl. "Yes, I did. The waiting, the nights alone… that's no problem for me. I knew what I signed up for."

Now he looks at her again, a half-smile on his face that can't quite decide between bordering on arrogant and… sad? Wistful? Is that it? "I did, too, you know. We both did, actually. By the time we finally got over ourselves, we'd known each other for _years_. We knew exactly what the other's capable of, where our weaknesses lie, what kind of work we do… but it doesn't prepare you. And it doesn't get easier. Ever."

Prepare you for _what_, she wants to ask but he seems to have anticipated it because he looks back at the Captain's bruised face, and this time it's a meaningful glance… and it becomes clear to her what he wants to tell her. It doesn't matter for how long you've known your soldier and for how long you've been together with him or her, you never get used to seeing them hurt… even when you're in the same line of work.

That's the reason why Major Thomas Moore, known to be an evil bastard extraordinaire, spends the night at the bedside of his girlfriend, working his way through stacks of paperwork half-heartedly, probably just to keep himself awake… and suddenly she starts to understand what binds them together and what makes her stay with him.

"I…" she's not quite sure what she wants to say… maybe telling him that of course she knew that as well… but that would be lying. And she was raised to despise lies. "I guess… you have a point there."

"I know I do." There we go again, smug bastard mode… "Look, Kassandra, all I'm saying is… it's not a bad thing to be worried. Happens to the best of us. Even happens to me once in a while." Oh. Wow. She wonders what Joe would say if she told him about _that_… and then realizes that she'll probably never actually tell him about it. "It doesn't make them come back faster – and sometimes it doesn't make them come back _at all_ – but it's human. And the best thing is… it doesn't let you forget how much you care."

No… no, she will definitely _never_ tell Joe about all of this. The man Major Moore usually tries to be would never say that and she suspects there are some good reasons for it – all the soldiers and even some of the scientists here have good reasons for their walls – but tonight… she thinks it must be exhaustion and worry that make him open enough to say something like that and that she owes it to him to keep this to herself.

Apart from that… he also hit the nail on the head. If she's honest with herself… the only reason she's not worried about Joe is that she perfected the mechanism of shoving it away into a well-locked corner of her mind so well that she does it so fast that she doesn't even realize she's worried at all. But damn, she _is_, and even though she knows that Joe is a very capable soldier with a hell of team and a CO who's nearly damn well invincible she can't help going through worst case scenarios in her head, from the moment she touched that dark corner in her mind.

She needs to take a breath before she replies, "So worrying is supposed to be a _good_ thing?"

That makes him breathe a silent laugh. "Yeah, something like that. Doesn't prepare you for the shit hitting the fan the slightest… but anyone who doesn't worry is a heartless bastard or an idiot. Or both."

"Or a shameless liar," she feels compelled to add, hoping the blush she feels on her cheeks isn't too bright.

Another grin, amused now. "Yeah, or that. And you don't want to be either, do you, Miss Wilson?"

Right. She just let him outmaneuver her. A little defeated she sighs. "No, sir." Just when she's about to add that the only reason he got her to this point is that the sea creature's poison is still messing with her head but a cracking yawn prevents her from doing it. Forestalling any quips about it being way past her bedtime, she says, "Anyway, I uh… I guess I better get back to bed before Nurse Roberts finishes that vampire mystery."

"Yeah," he agrees and nods, "she goes so fast through them you'd think she inhales them." Uh… apparently… this isn't the first night shift the Major spent here. And she starts wondering just _how_ often he's here instead of his quarters, sitting at the bedside of Captain Reece or maybe even one of his team members… and why no one else ever seems to have noticed it. If they did… they sure as hell wouldn't spread all that crap about him.

"Right. Uh… good night, sir." Dammit, why is it that she can't stop stuttering now?

"Night, Wilson." With that, she beats a comparatively hasty retreat, lest she embarrassed herself even more. When she reaches the doorway, she can't help but turning around a last time… to find Moore leaning over to Captain Reece… "Go to bed, Wilson. I'm pretty sure Major Lorne will make sure to bring them all back in one piece and with barely a scratch. Your Lieutenant will be fine." And again… he didn't even look up, just… oh, strangely it looks like he's already forgotten that she's still there because he gives the Captain a very soft kiss on the forehead and that… is one of the most touching scenes she has ever seen.

It also… made her feel like a voyeur and so she finally _does_ hightail it out of there, all the while her mind working in overdrive… but when she finally reaches her bed again, one thought has crystallized: tomorrow evening, when Joe hopefully made it back unscathed to Atlantis, she'll tell him that she does worry about him when he's gone, just a little bit… hoping he'll realize that what she actually means is that she cares about him… a _lot_.

"Loving, losing

Forgetting, forgiving

Belonging, destroying

Still not a night alone

Regretting not a second."

Münchner Freiheit, "Loving, Losing"


	9. Why Get Complicated?

**A/N:** Oh, look, I can post a new McSmartypants fic. This time it's taking place sometime after _Chasing Your Shadow_... and he really got himself in a pretty big mess. How? Oh... let's just say, _someone_ can get him into just about anything really easily. And I do feel bad for poor Mr. Woolsey.

Also, this was **mac's **idea. I had nothing to do with it, so _stop glaring at me, McSmartypants_!

PS.: Pretty big language warning, and oh, this is smut. Yes.

* * *

**Why Get Complicated?****  
**

"_Cos I'm a boy, she's a girl,  
And we're all doing this around the world,  
Around the world, around the world, around the world,_

_So, why get complicated?_  
_You know you wanna turn me on,_  
_Why get complicated?_  
_You know you wanna turn me on."_

_James Blunt, "Turn Me On"_

It was a pretty stupid idea. That much is clear. Even though it's kind of hot it was still a stupid idea so he really tries to stop what he's doing. What _they_'re doing.

However, it's kind of difficult to stop kissing and simultaneously undressing his girlfriend. As a last resort he tries to remind himself forcefully of the fact that they're essentially on the verge of having sex in a government property jumper but it's _just not working_.

"Fuck, Joe, could you just _focus_ here, please?" Oh, right, focus on hot girlfriend because otherwise hot girlfriend will get seriously pissed.

"I _am_ focusing, Buckle Bunny," he grunts and while it wasn't quite true a moment ago, it certainly is now. Leaning down, he renews his vigor in kissing her and sets off to complete the task of getting her rid of her shirt, fully ignoring the fact that they're supposed to be _working_ here.

But they'd been alone and they'd suddenly found themselves in the same jumper totally by coincidence and she'd worn one of the sleeveless regulation shirts and they hadn't had any time to themselves for ages because of opposite shifts and a general conspiracy by the universe and/or their respective superiors against them being together.

And seriously, it had happened _totally_ on coincidence! He'd been tasked with checking the jumpers' supplies and she'd been working on some glitch in a jumper's interface and oh, suddenly they'd been in the same jumper and well, sometimes it's enough for him that she's just _there_ and he really missed her and… ah, stop thinking.

He finally gives up fighting his needs with trying to be at least half professional and lets her push him towards the bench behind him while doing her best to get him pantless before reaching said bench. He's kind of glad, by the way, that she chose to go against regulation and wore shorts instead of sensible regulation pants because hey, way easier to get rid of. Oh so good to get his hands there, feel her fingers in his hair, hot kisses on his lips when she straddles him… yes, baby, that's it, right _there_.

_God_, she's so… dexterous and yeah, he's fucking glad he couldn't keep up ignoring all her attempts at exploiting his love for her in shorts and short sleeves and the fact that they haven't seen each other properly for _weeks_. Because if he had, he wouldn't be sitting here now, with her hands and lips all over him, feeling her smooth, cool skin under his fingers and against his body while she keeps wiggling and he'd so ask her to stop doing that if that weren't the best kind of torture _ever_.

"Jesus fucking…" She silences him with another kiss and then giggles.

Whispering, she says, "Stealth, Joe. I thought you flyboys… whoa, holy… I thought you were all so good at that…" and then she makes an exquisite little mewling noise when he cups her buttocks and draws her as close as possible to himself, close enough so he can… right… there… he wanted to get _there_… and then all his sense of stealth is gone and he lets go and… _whoa_… that was really, God, that was just… that…

"Pardon, I was just… Oh, good _God_, please excuse me, I'm…" _Jesus… fucking…_ What the fucking fuck is Richard Fucking Woolsey fucking doing in the fucking bay door of the fucking jumper?

Oh… turning around and fleeing the scene like he's being chased by the devil from the look of it. Maybe he'll be so shocked that he won't… "Goddammit, McSmartypants get them _on_ again," his girlfriend hisses and shoves his unmentionables back into his hands, while she grabs a blanket from the net above the bench and retreats into the front compartment to get dressed herself.

For a moment, all he can do is stare dumbly at the piece of clothing in his hand but when he hears the very distinctive voice of one Dr. Rodney McKay saying something like "…need to have them disciplined, Richard!" he scrambles to get the thing back on so at least he isn't naked anymore when Mr. Woolsey appears in the doorframe a second time.

This time, Woolsey tries to look pissed but those red blotches on his neck and his face somewhat diminish the effect. McKay, behind him however, looks every inch the gloating arrogant son of a bitch he is. Fuck, he thinks, this is probably _exactly_ what the bastard had been waiting for.

"Lieutenant Simmons, isn't it? You're on Major Lorne's team, aren't you?" Woolsey asks, with a surprising amount of something dangerous in his voice. Alright, maybe he should have listened to the boss when he'd told them _never_ to underestimate Woolsey.

Trying to keep from swallowing, he answers, "Yes, sir."

"I will have you and Miss Wilson reporting to my office 0800 tomorrow." Woolsey did stumble a little over the 0800, telling him he's still not quite comfortable with adjusting to the city's jargon but… he did pretty well with the rest of it.

This time he does swallow because he can't quite acknowledge the order yet. "Beg pardon, sir but… Miss Wilson is not the one responsible for this." Actually, she is, seeing as she'd had to… convince him to do this. But his momma didn't raise him to be a coward. His momma also didn't raise him to be an idiot which is why he quickly steps in front of Kassandra. He didn't even have to _see_ that she was about to have her say in this and that scares him just a little bit.

"I think it would be prudent to let _me_ be the judge of this, Lieutenant." And now he can just imagine the "told you so" look on her face and the arms she must have somehow managed to cross in front of her not even half decently clad chest without losing her dignity… unlike him.

What he _can_ see, though, is Rodney McKay immensely enjoying this and one day he _will_ lose his temper and even top all the stories people – the boss and Captain Cadman included – told him about the boss or the Captain losing it in front of McKay. But Woolsey still wants an answer from him. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"0800 at my office, Lieutenant. And Miss Wilson. I will also inform your respective direct superiors of this and request proper disciplinary actions. Am I understood?" Right. He _will_ never underestimate Richard Woolsey again. And oh God, how is he gonna explain _this_ to the boss?

And, almost more important, how will he ever live down the Sergeants' reactions? "Yes, sir."

"Good. Carry on." What? "Not… here. And not with… what you've been doing, of course." Ah, right.

"Of course, sir." Woolsey throws him another look that's a cross between being considerably embarrassed and considerably _pissed_ – in Woolsey's case, he just discovered, one has to look for the small things like that vein throbbing at his temple – and takes his leave after nodding at Kassandra behind him. McKay takes another moment to gloat – he's frantically trying to think up something to make up for the taunting and gloating the boss and probably Captain Cadman as well will have to endure from that idiot in the next couple of weeks – and then mercifully strides away to harass some other poor soul.

There's another moment of silence and he tries to get back into looking at least partially dignified when he suddenly hears Kassandra saying dryly from behind, "Well… that could have gone better."

He turns around, not quite sure if he's pissed or if he still needs a while for that. "Actually… that shouldn't have happened _at all_."

"Didn't hear _you_ complaining, flyboy." Okay, now he _is_ pissed. "Aw, come on, you really _didn't_ complain. No, don't you _dare_ start another fight." What… how… why did she know… and why's she smirking like that? "You're as open as a book. Now get that shirt on again, we need to figure out how to get back at McKay."

How can she be so… unconcerned? This really isn't a laughing matter and both their careers could be in serious danger and the boss and the Sergeants will probably all lose the respect he's worked so hard for and… wait. Getting back at McKay actually doesn't sound like so bad an idea. But… first things first. "Yeah, after we figure out how to get out of this mess," he grunts while pulling the shirt over his head.

When he looks at her again, she still hasn't lost the smirk. "Oh, we'll find a way. We always do. Now, why don't we wrap up our stuff here and then work on your little focus problem in my quarters?"

His what? Oh… oh right. His _focus_ _problem_. He clears his throat. "Sounds like… a plan. Do you want me to give you hand or…"

"Keep those hands of yours to yourself until we get back to quarters," she laughs and sets to curse at the jumper again, while typing away on her tablet PC, humming an off-key melody under her breath and despite everything and himself, he can't help grinning in anticipation while he finishes going through his check list. Yeah, maybe the boss and Mr. Woolsey and probably Sheppard as well will seriously kick his ass and Kassandra's boss Dr. Delingua will make her write patches for microscopic security loopholes for the rest of her life but… they'll find a way out of this. They always do indeed.


	10. I Can Do it Better

**A/N:** Since **Nausicaa2301** asked so nicely (and I'm on sick leave for another week)... here's the solution to Lt McSmartypant's little jumper incident. Well, kinda. Also, he wouldn't stop talking about falcons. Very weird, that.

_Also_, sorry it's not another _Government Conspiracy Job_ chapter, **lizzie **but I promise to kick... ask **mac** very nicely to beta maybe one or two new chapters ;)

And I'll try to maybe somehow have her beta one or two chapters of the new _Minor Characters_ piece, _Lies, Lies, Lies_ (so at least now you've got at least a title to look out for ;)). We'll see.

PS.: Language warning. Who would have thought such a goody two shoes as McSmartypants would know how to cuss so well.

* * *

**I Can Do it Better**

"_Tomorrow the sun is gonna shine again  
And tomorrow I'll get myself a second chance  
Take my wrongs, turn them around  
Get myself together  
Give me a brand new day  
And I can do it better."_

_Gord Bamford, "Better"_

What he really misses about the Academy is… well, the falconry. He hasn't told anyone yet – not even Kassandra – but he misses the birds and the taking care of them and the exhilaration when seeing them fly. He'd known he probably wouldn't ever get to do it again, once he left the Academy but… he'd never have thought he'd actually get to do it again, hundreds of thousands of light years away from home.

Which is basically what he's doing right now, on the East pier. Only a couple of days after coming to Atlantis, he'd discovered that the city might be located in open water but that it was still populated by a couple of avian species… and one of them proved to be susceptible to Oreos and lots and lots of careful convincing with even more patience. So he's standing here and trying to show this new trick to…

"I sincerely hope that Biology knows about what you're doing here, Lieutenant." _Jesus fucking Christ_ what the hell is Laura Cadman doing here all of a sudden? "Coming out here to stretch." Huh? "You looked like you wanted to know what I was doing here all of a sudden." Oh _God_. It's not just a rumor. The Captain really _is_ psychic. "No, Lieutenant, contrary to common believe, I am _not_ psychic. You're just as open as a book."

"That's what Kassandra always says, ma'am." Oh, damn, that wasn't what he'd wanted to say. Instead, he'd wanted to tell her very politely and very properly to fuck the hell off and fucking leave him be… basically what he'd been telling just about everyone who'd tried to talk to him since he and Kassandra got busted in that damn jumper.

But maybe that will still… "So… if I didn't know better I'd say you were _hiding_, Lieutenant."

Fuck. How does she _do_ tha… no, wait. He isn't hiding. "Beg pardon, ma'am, but I'm not hiding."

"Yes," she says and nods with a kind of smug expression, "you very much are hiding here."

No, he _isn't_? "With all due respect, ma'am…"

"Heard you got busted." Oh _God_, not _again_. Not _another_ person asking him about _that_ incident.

He turns back to F-22, his ersatz falcon. "I don't want to talk about it." Mh. It seems as if the bird is starting to feel his agitation, so he carefully takes off the cap her improvised and lets her fly, hoping it'll take her awhile to come back.

There, that should suffice. "Yeah, but Evan did." Okay, apparently, it didn't. And yes, _of course_ the boss would talk about that with his girlfriend. Oh fuck. "And probably the rest of the city as well."

Yes, well, that's hardly any news. In fact, the people making fun of it in the week after getting busted – and then surprisingly getting only moderately chewed out about it by both Lorne and Sheppard – had so far been the Sergeants – of _course_ the Sergeants – some of Kassandra's IT girls and some of the stupid nerds who've probably never seen _anyone_ including themselves naked ever before if they didn't consist of pixels, Major Moore, Captain Reece – although he's not _quite_ sure about that because with Reece you never know – several other soldiers… actually, he thinks there's _no one_ who didn't have a go at him, _including_ Mr. Woolsey. He scowls. "I _really_ don't want to talk about it."

Cadman grins. "Oh, but maybe _I_ do. Rank hath its privileges and all that." She… _wouldn't_, right? Please tell him Cadman is _not_ about to…

"Dear city dwellers..." Huh, what…

"City dwellers? Seriously, Richard?" What the _hell_? Why are Sheppard and Woolsey arguing over the city's PA system all of a sudden? And from the look of it, Captain Cadman doesn't know what's going on, either. Well, he thinks, _that_ would certainly be a first.

"Yes, how else should I phrase this?" Where the hell is this go…

"Attention everyone!" Whoa! He never thought anyone could be faster than him when being called to attention but apparently, Cadman's reflexes are really as good as the boss once hinted at… when telling them why they shouldn't ever piss off her or any of the other female Marines on base.

And okay, it's a little funny how she actually _makes_ herself relax when Mr. Woolsey sighs, "Naturally." Oh, wait… is she _blushing_? Nah… or maybe yes? It's hard to tell, seeing as she's wearing sports dress and probably came here on her jogging round.

Sheppard and Woolsey still have to tell them what this is all about, though. So he hopes they finally get down to business when Sheppard says, "Anyway… Mr. Woolsey and I would like to remind you that it is _absolutely_ and on the penalty of death or worse..."

Did Cadman just mutter "Jesus fucking Christ, cut the old married couple crap and get to the fucking _point_"? From the look of it… yeah, she did. And he'll _never_ get used to that kind of insolence. Positively _never_.

"I _never_ said _that_, John!" Even though she wasn't quite wrong with her assessment, he has to give her that. And from the look of it, she knows it. He really does wonder how the boss and her manage to get along… well, most of the time, anyway, if the rumor mill is worth anything.

"Okay, fine, that it is absolutely _forbidden_ to use the jumper for screwing around..." Oh _God_.

"Colonel Sheppard!"

"For anything other than their intended purpose." Yes, thank you, sir. But yeah… it's probably too late, anyway and okay, after _that_ he actually _will_ go into hiding. He only has to figure out how to get Kassandra there, too… because going into hiding without Kassandra would be very boring.

"And that purpose is _not_ to "screw around" in them, as you so nicely put it." What… Richard Woolsey… just didn't use the term "screw around", right? He didn't. Did he?

"Richard! I'm appalled!" Actually… part of that sounded almost real, even over the crappy PA announcement… oh, and there's F-22 again.

"You started it, Colonel." Well, that was certainly just a little bit smug, he thinks when quietly soothing his bird by stroking her breast feathers and tries to ignore Cadman who looks strangely curious and a little… intimidated? Nah. She must know about his days as a falconer at the Academy, given the fact that she's sleeping with his – _their_ – boss. And he did _not_ just mentally wince at that thought.

"Yeah, right. Anyway, people, you heard me. No screwing around in jumpers or any other government property air and other mobile craft. Actually, no screwing around in storage closets, offices, alcoves or any other dark nooks and crannies, either. And that also includes…"

"John." A discreet cough then and he's pretty sure Woolsey just gave Sheppard a pointed look.

"Alright. You know what I mean. Behave yourself, people and this time I… _we_ mean it. Just a friendly reminder. Sheppard and Woolsey out."

For a moment, there's only the sound of the sea and the distant cries of F-22's friends… and that of her prey. Then… he hears Cadman clear her throat and say, "Well, that was… interesting."

"That's _one_ way to describe it, ma'am," he can't help saying while preparing F-22 for her last flight for today.

Cadman just shrugs, eyeing his bird a little warily when he lets her fly again. "Certainly. Hey, uh, tell you what? When the whole thing has died down a little," which will be in about a hundred years, he's tempted to add, "why don't you ask Captain Reece or Major Moore for a little advice on how _not_ to get caught?"

Uh… "What?" She raises her eyebrow. He clears his throat. "I mean, beg pardon, ma'am?"

Now she grins again. "Ask them. They know a thing or two about not getting _caught_." What the hell is she… oh good God, he'd never wanted to know _that_ about either Reece or Moore but yeah… it does explain a couple of weird remarks from last week.

"I'll… um… think about it, ma'am." And then he'll decide against it, that much is clear.

Rolling her eyes, she says, "Oh come on, Joe, it's not as if that couldn't have happened to… a lot of people." He's pretty sure it never happened to _her_ and the boss. Okay, so he knows about that gay couple in Archeology who got caught doing… interesting things in what they thought was an unused office and that female keeper from Biology and her kitchen crew boyfriend who were doing it on a work bench when her boss entered the repair shop for the cages… But yes, it _definitely_ never happened and _would_ never happen to Captain Cadman and Major Lorne. Most certainly not. Oh wait, why is she grinning like that again? "Maybe, if you're being really nice… I might actually tell you the story how Evan and I got busted by Colonel Sheppard in the workout room someday."

_What_? "Uh, ma'am…"

"Someday, Lieutenant, someday. Not _now_." Oh, alright. And anyway, he really didn't _want_ to know that. He _still_ doesn't want to know it. Really.

He swallows. "Of course, ma'am."

And there's his bird again. Yes, she's a beauty… she's a little bigger than the Academy's gyrfalcons, prairie falcons and peregrine falcons and her feathers are white and grey, like that of a seagull but she's got the same eyes as falcons and her beak is shaped almost identically. Her species seems to be intelligent and fast-learning and they seem develop attachments pretty fast, considering… "So _does_ Biology know about this?"

Well… "Not… really, ma'am."

"Lieutenant?" Mh. He wonders if that raised eyebrow is able to keep the boss in check as well it can keep _him_ in check.

"Okay. Not at all. But… please don't tell them, ma'am?" Oh well, come to think of it… "Don't tell _anyone_, ma'am? Please?"

Cadman makes a show of sighing. Aw, come _on_… "Fine, I won't. But you do know that you owe me one now, right?" He nods. Yeah, damn, he does. "By the way… does _Miss Wilson_ know what you're doing here?"

Um, well… "No. And I'd prefer to keep it…"

"You might want to show her. She might actually like it. I know Anna does." Huh, who? "Anna Williamson, Evan's sister. She's married to another Academy graduate…"

Wait. Williamson. Academy. Falconry. Oh. "_Charles_ Williamson, ma'am?"

She seems a little surprised now. What? "Yeah. That's her husband. What, you know him?"

"Uh, yeah, ma'am… Major Williamson took care of the falconry team sometimes. And… and he's Major Lorne's brother-in-law?" This… isn't good. It _can't_ be good.

And why is Cadman so amused, all of a sudden. "Yeah, he is. Oh, don't worry, I don't think Evan will tell him about your… exploits here. Or at least not if you behave yourself."

Behave himself. Oh, he can do that. He always knew how to do that. That little thing in the jumper… that was a lapse of good judgment, induced by his way too hot girlfriend wearing those damn shorts and that damn sleeveless tight regulation shirt and anyway… "Yes, ma'am. Of course, ma'am."

"Good boy." What… he's not a _dog_, dammit! "So, uh… does it a name or something?"

Did she just call his not-quite-falcon _it_? "It's a she, ma'am. And yes, she does have a name. F-22."

_What_ is the matter _now_? Why, in all Heavens, did Cadman just _snort_? F-22 is a very good name for an Air Force not-quite-falcon, thank you _very_ much, because it's a great tradition, seeing as the official mascot falcon has been called Mach 1, ever since they had the first falcon in 1955 and… "Seriously? F-22? Oh come on, you can't be serious."

"I _am_, ma'am. It's a great tradition in the Air Force to…"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. But F-22? I don't think she deserves that." _What_ is so bad about F-22? So far the bird certainly didn't complain and… "I think… oh, how about Irene? Doesn't that have some Air Force tradition, too?" How the _hell_ does a _Marine_ know about _that_ cadence? Oh, right, because she's _sleeping_ with an Academy graduate and no, he didn't wince mentally _this_ time, either. "Oh, look, I think the bird likes it."

No, she doesn't… did the bird just blink at him, kind of… _telling_? And… why is she suddenly bending her head to the side and making that… _sound_, kinda like a cross between clicking and croaking? "I don't think the bird can actually…" _Ow_. Those claws are sharp, you stupid bird!

"I think she can. And I think you really should introduce her to your girlfriend. I have a feeling they might get along… and it might get you another round of screwing… but probably better not in a jumper." Oh God, the mouth the woman has. However _did_ the boss end up with _her_? "Close your mouth, Lieutenant and give your bird a decent name… because _I_ need to finish my daily round now, otherwise Evan might start looking for me." Oh yeah, uh-huh, sure. "He would, believe me. We've got plans ton… okay, and I really need to go." Yes, thank you. Because he _totally_ doesn't need to know _which_ plans the boss and his girlfriend had for tonight. "And get over that little thing in the jumper. People will find something else to talk about, trust me."

Ahaha, yeah, right, _as if_.

But… okay… he remembers how fast people went from talking about the boss and Cadman during that fake marriage thing to Colonel Sheppard and Miss Emmagan and then to completely different things in the space of just a week… okay, _maybe_ he'll get lucky, just for _once_. He manages a rueful half-smile. "Yes, ma'am. I… uh… thank you, ma'am."

She just nods and then bids him good bye and then he's alone again with… F-22? Irene? "You didn't really like that name, Irene? Did you?" Again there's the head bending and the strange sound.

"What's so bad about F-22?" He can't believe he's talking to a _bird_ about her _name_ but there was that digging her claws into his arm again and even though it's well protected it _did_ hurt.

"Alright. Irene. You really want that name?" The head bending and the sound again and this time it's a little louder.

He sighs. "Okay, fine, Irene it is. And… I think the Captain might have been right about that other thing…" Oh well. He taps his ear piece. "Hey, uh, Kassandra… I'd like you to meet someone, down by the East pier…"


	11. Doing Crazy Things

**A/N: **If anyone is wondering where all the _Side Trips_ are suddenly coming from... I'm tackling my backlog from already beta'ed stuff I edited last week _and_ I'm now on regular leave after two weeks of sick leave. Which means I worked exactly one week in June. Um. Not good for the bonus.

Oh well, anyway... this is a _Minor Characters_ story, taking place three months after the Prologue of _The Government Conspiracy Job_ (so half a TGCJ story, **lizzie** :D), showing us what Tom and Maureen did around the time Laura and Evan got whumped in _Possibly the Complications_. And if any of my readers are fluent or at least firm in Russian... please do send me a note because the only way I could get those Russian phrases in here was Google translator and we all know how well _that_ usually works. So please don't bitch about how bad my research is in secret but tell me how to do it better. Thank you. (mostly because this isn't the last of what **mac **and I like to call the Russian Smuts...)

PS: Actually, I think _Maureen_ at least would be kind of amused about McSmartypants asking her for advice on how not to get caught, **Nausicaa **:D

* * *

**Doing Crazy Things**

"_I'll be the biggest fool you've ever seen  
A regular Joe doing crazy things  
A daredevil heart wouldn't have no limits  
But all the things I wouldn't do  
I would for you."_

_Gord Bamford, "I Would For You"_

Well… there's one good thing about Earth: silly mini trips to romantic and not so romantic places all over the world are so much easier to arrange when you can book your flight from San Francisco than if you'd had try and find a flight from the Pegasus galaxy. So, okay, convincing Tom to fly to St. Petersburg for two weeks had been infinitely more difficult than trying to convince him to fly to Paris would have been. But telling him that Paris would be boring and that kind of _everyone_ does Paris for romantic mini breaks had been a pretty good incentive to convince him to go to St. Petersburg with me.

Oh, alright, I didn't use the word "romantic" because Tom doesn't do romantic. And to be honest, neither do I. But we _do_ do "Let's get away from this city to somewhere no one knows us and where we can pretend to be normal people" and I'd always wanted to visit St. Petersburg, anyway. Because, see, I've been learning Russian since I went to college – which feels like it was _ages_ ago – but I never actually went _to_ Russia. Which was why no amount of "I sure as hell ain't going to some commie town called Leningrad!" from Tom could keep me from booking it.

Knowing him, he only did it to annoy me, anyway. However, I still couldn't keep from reminding him that it ceased to be Leningrad almost 20 years ago. I'm also pretty sure he knows that Russia is further away from communism than Earth is away from the moon now but yeah… I'm not _entirely_ sure, seeing as we're talking about _Tom_ here.

Anyway, in the end I got my wish and we've been here for half a week now and damn I _love_ it. Tom keeps grumbling about not understanding why I have to see yet _more_ old buildings and wondering just low enough that I'm the only one who can hear him if I didn't get my share of boring old buildings in Pegasus but I think he secretly enjoys the trip just as much as I do.

I caught him looking just a little awed when we stood in front of the Catherine Palace in Tsarskoye Selo. And I think he also liked the Alexander Gardens and the Admiralty Tower. And yes, I did indulge him with a visit to the Artillery Museum. He did make fun of Army guys and big guns and having the need to compensate for something, though… well, only until I reminded him of the fact that F-16's and F-302's aren't exactly the world's most humble planes, either.

Today, however, we had the Hermitage – or at least a part of it and I'll be damned if Tom can keep me from going back to visit the _other_ part – and… Tom wasn't paying a lot of attention to the paintings. Instead, he was paying attention to me and while that usually is a really great and much desired thing… it isn't when I'm trying to further my – and _his_ – education. He was distracting me and he didn't even shy away from… "Believe it or not, Kid, I just found the most perfect dark corner _ever_."

_Damn_. Why, why, _why_ does he keep doing that thing with coming up from behind and whispering things like _that_ in my ear in the most inappropriate moments? I can't help growling, "What the hell… Tom! You can't be serious!" Because see, we're right in the middle of a guided tour around the _Aurora_… yes, the one that kind of started the Russian revolution and changed the world irrevocably. But of course that's of no consequence when Thomas Moore just found a perfect dark corner. No… _the_ perfect dark corner.

And right, of course his answer is a drawled, "Yes, I am."

Yeah, that was to be expected. As was the set of hands on either side of my hips and the… kiss to the crook of my neck… okay that probably was not expected dammit must not get distracted… "It's a goddamn _war ship_!" Oh yeah, that was a good one. Remind him of the rules that usually apply to war ships.

Right. Because that always works so well on the _Daedalus_. "So what?" he says consequently and there's the attempt to steer me away from the rest of the visitor group and… did he just _bite my neck_? Okay… okay, maybe not _bite_… but he definitely nibbled and… "You could have agreed at the Hermitage but for some reason didn't..."

I… can't believe he just said that. In the tone that makes it sound like I don't have a choice about being ravished… oh God, did I just think "ravish"? There's definitely something wrong with my reading habits and it's all Laura's fault… wait, focus. Tom just implied I don't get a choice in the matter of being seduced deep in the guts of some godforsaken ex-Tsarist ex-communist war ship.

But you know, I do. I'm a 30 year old Captain in the United States Marine Corps and I will _not_ let a Zoomie Major get the better of me. I twist around – in the rather futile attempt to bring some distance between us – and manage to look sufficiently angry for myself to feel better. I even manage a glare. "Because it's a fucking _museum_, goddammit!"

Aw, _fuck_. Rule number one if you do _not_ want to get seduced by Thomas Moore in inappropriate moments: do _not_, under any circumstances, swear like a Marine. It just turns him on more, for some really twisted reason. Right now, though… he seems to go with the boyish charm, since he leans against the bulk head and raises an eyebrow, nonchalantly saying, "Yeah, so?"

What… gah! Right now, I'm very close to doing a Laura and giving him some big tantrum before simply stomping away… but then again… I'm still not Laura Cadman. I cross my arms in front of my chest and give him back the raised eyebrow. "You… really have no taste and/or respect for art, do you?"

"No…" he says grinning, even though we both know that it's not _entirely_ true and leans in even a little closer; to deliver his death blow, no doubt, "but I do appreciate a good dark corner on a ship."

"Yeah, figures." Seeing as we kind of have a history with dark corners, storage closets, balconies and a lot of other not quite private spots… Another kiss, this time full on the lips. Dammit! "And could you just please…" keep your hands from my hips and stop dragging me into the corner and… "Oh… Tom, really…" Grinning against the skin of my throat, mumbling something about keeping up our score… Ah, hell. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, let's get into that damn corner."

There it is again, that low laugh; like a rumble deep inside his chest and… that never fails to get me. The rapidly shrinking rational part of my mind actually manages to calculate how long it will approximately take the next group of visitors to reach our position while the rest thoroughly enjoys being kissed senseless and being pressed against metal plating with a history. Okay… should be okay for at least a few more…

Whoa. Can't help a sharp intake of breath because he pushed up my sweater enough to get his hands on my skin and they were just a little bit cold… oh, interesting course his fingers take but… now that he started it, I want the real deal. Tom is quite adept with his hands but I want the whole nine yards now. Being convinced that it's all _his_ fault, anyway, I reach for the buckle of his belt and after a futile and rather unmotivated attempt at stopping me, he lets me have my way. Yeah, that boy does know what's good for… wait.

Earth, not Pegasus. Cycle. Three months here… cycle. Not regular yet. I can't help letting out a frustrated little groan and saying, "You got anything with you?"

Eyes fogged with desire – oh good _God_ – he blinks and then asks a little dumbfounded, "Anything what… oh. Oh right. No, I ah… don't." Right, that was to be expected. Feeling disappointment coming up I close my eyes and lean my head against the plating… but the hands don't leave my skin. Instead I hear his voice again. "Would you… would you mind… would it be so bad?"

Confused I open my eyes again and look at him but there's too much in his face to properly read it. It's a strange mixture of… anticipation, anxiousness, insecurity. Oh. So… he was _serious_ about wanting kids. I purse my lips and surprise myself a little with my – honest – answer. "No."

There's another moment of silence where he seems to try to decipher if I just said what he thought I said and then there's a slow, seductive, positively _hot_ grin spreading over his face. "Then by all means proceed, Captain."

Not bothering with a verbal answer, I finally take up again what I'd been doing, with renewed vigor, because hello, public space with visitor groups here. Thankfully, he gets the hint and does all those things that I love – hands under my sweater, hands down my jeans, tongue against my throat – and _God_. I can't… "Promise you we'll have nice and slow… tonight… in our room," Tom breathes into my ear and if it hadn't been for him pressing me very firmly against the wall, I'd probably have dissolved in a puddle of goo.

But yeah… on the clock here. "Yeah, but right now… try to concentrate on quick and dirty." Holy crap, I can't believe I just said that. It's all his fault! Seriously, _he_ corrupted me! I never was like this until I started sleeping with him, I _swear_. It's all just…

"Love it when you are like that, Kid. Try not… to scream too loud, though, will you?" Scream? Why would I scr… _oh_.

_God_.

This is just… he's just… _fuck_. Don'tscreamdon'tscreamdon'tscream…

In the end, whatever sound I was about to make hitches in my throat and for a tiny moment, time seems to stop and it's just brilliant; feeling him inside of me and feeling myself embracing him and it doesn't matter that we're on a warship that's almost a hundred years old or in St. Petersburg or just basically on any planet at all and then… then I let out a long drawn silent sigh and I'm so glad that he'll stay and not walk away and that I can have him like this whenever I want.

"Did I ever tell you how much I like it that we never got rid of _that_ habit?" I can't help saying while hastily putting my clothes in order again and he grins at me, buckling his belt.

"Said the woman who wouldn't let me have my way at the Hermitage." He's just… incorrigible.

I roll my eyes. "_That_ was something completely different." He wants to answer something but I just picked up the voice of the tour guide and add almost hastily, "And no, we won't have that discussion _now_." Because, you know, the next group just reached out position and oops… the guide just spotted us.

She frowns. "Mogu li ya sprosit', chto ty zdes' delaesh'?"* she asks and… quick thinking. What _are_ we doing here?

Oh, right. "My… uh… my poteryali nash put'. Iznivite."* More frowning from the guide but in the end, she seems to have decided that the stupid Americans who manage to get lost on a ship don't merit her attention any more than jerking her head to the end of the group and I grab Tom's hand to keep him from making one of his quips that could get us thrown out of the country and drag him to where the guide wanted us.

When she focuses elsewhere, I feel Tom leaning in again and almost dread what he has to say… "You know, Kid, next time you decide it's time for some choice words… say them in Russian. I promise it'll be worth your while." I… he… that _man_. That demands retaliation. And I'm pretty sure I'll find just the right plan for it.

* Mogu li ya sprosit', chto ty zdes' delaesh'? – Russian, May I ask what you are doing here?

* My… uh… my poteryali nash put'. Iznivite. – Russian, We… uh… got lost. Sorry.


	12. Shoulda Walked Away

**A/N:** Well. :D **Mac** finally got around betaing some of my stuff and what you're getting here now is another time I borrowed **leah**'s characters (if anyone of you reads German and is starting to become really interested, just tell me and I'll give you the link to her profile :)). It's taking place maybe one or two hours before _Possibly the Complications_ (the story that some of you may not have read because it's possible trigger material), so about three months after EATG and three before _The Government Conspiracy Job_.

BTW, it took me a while to find some appropriate means to respond to Matthew Kemp's actions being discussed in this story and ended up asking on two different research journals and in the end... I decided to keep it like it's now because several people confirmed that this _could_ be a realistic way to resolve the issue. Seriously!

* * *

**Shoulda Walked Away**

"_I shoulda walked away, walked away  
The voice inside me shouts out loud  
The silence feels more silent now."_

_Chris Clouse, "Walk Away"_

Well, he thinks, that was bound to happen. You just don't jump at a General's throat without repercussions. But he'd been desperate and it had solved the issue. Or at least he hopes it did.

Anyway… better get this over with fast. Steeling himself, he knocks at the door of Major Lorne's office. Instead of Lorne calling him in, the door simply opens and again he finds himself wondering if Adam could tell him if the gene also allows you to know who's standing outside the door or if that's just Major Lorne's Mad XO Skillz. But then again… he did get a not so friendly invitation to the Major's office two hours ago.

Stepping in, he half expects Lorne to send him one of those looks that make you want to turn tail immediately and hide somewhere no one will ever find you and that always make him wonder if it's an Academy thing because Jenna and occasionally even Jason to a certain degree are very adept at those as well.

However Lorne only looks mildly irritated and since the situation is pretty grave, he takes care to perform a textbook report and picture perfect parade rest. For about a second he hopes that Lorne will offer for him to sit down since that would probably mean it's not as bad as he thought but apparently, it's even _worse_.

"You know why you're here, Captain?" he starts off the conversation and it doesn't really sound good.

"Yes, sir." For pissing off a General, most likely.

"So… tell me." Of course Lorne would say that.

He'd love to answer with the truth – that Major General Jonathan Wells is a superior asshole and a top candidate for the Worst Father Ever – but you don't say that kind of thing to your boss if you don't want to piss him off even more.

So he resists the temptation to take a deep breath and starts rattling off the charges, "Insubordination, insolence, disobedience. Sir."

"Correct," Lorne says and he thinks he also nodded but it's kind of hard to see that kind of thing when you're staring straight at the wall behind your boss. "Although the more important question is: _why_ did you do it?"

What… "Sir?" Slightly confused he finally breaks his routine of fixing his gaze somewhere above Lorne's head.

Lorne still doesn't look happy and he can't really blame him but… he didn't expect Lorne wanting to know the reason for his trespassing. The charges definitely won't go away if he tells him why he went off on the General, that's for sure. "Captain… you're one of my most reliable officers. You never disobey orders, you're always where you're supposed to be, _when_ you're supposed to be there, you've got a grip on your team… You do realize how this makes me wonder what the hell got into you?"

When you phrase it like that… Jenna was right. He really _is_ some kind of eager beaver, always striving to please his superiors and be a good little soldier. Like hell he'll ever tell her that, though. "Yes, sir."

Mh. Still not looking happy. But it was enough that he made a fool out of himself in front of a goddamn General… Jenna's _father_, for Heaven's sake. "So why don't you tell me?"

Because it's his business and no one else's… well, maybe Jenna's as well, seeing as it was her daddy issues that got him in this mess after all. But then again… he can't even really blame her for them after seeing the General standing at her bed – she'd been on artificial respiration, _goddammit_ – shaking his head and muttering something like "Stupid girl screwed up again." Something in him had just… snapped and then he'd suddenly been kind of yelling at the General in the hallway. "I'd prefer not to, sir."

"This won't get you anywhere and you know it, Captain." Of course he does. But it won't get him anywhere either to admit that he read a General the riot act because he'd been kind of sick of Jenna refusing to accept affection and praise from anyone because her _stupid_ father couldn't tell her he was proud of her just _once_. The General wouldn't even have to tell her the truth because he's probably the only one she'd actually _believe_ when he said that and that's probably the saddest thing of all.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" He's pretty sure Lorne was just _this_ short of throwing up his arms and rolling his eyes.

"For fu… Heaven's sake, please _do_, Captain. In fact, knock yourself out. I'm sure you've got a lot to tell me." That's… not a good thing. Lorne is losing his patience, and fast. Whenever that happens… the results are never pretty.

This time he does swallow before speaking up again. "My reasons are of a rather private nature and I'd prefer to keep it that way." He could as well have said that he'd deck anyone who only so much as _considers_ slanting Jenna or her abilities as a soldier. All in all, not a smart move.

"Goddammit, Captain! I'm trying to _help_ you here but I don't think I will keep doing that for much longer. It's starting to look like you either don't want or don't need my help and quite frankly I think both are pretty stupid ideas." Fuck. Now Lorne _did_ lose his patience and like he expect it _really_ isn't pretty. Lorne isn't a loud man, or someone who frequently yells at his subordinates – and he didn't really yell _now_ – but he doesn't have to. That scowl is just a little bit scary.

The question is, though, what the hell does he mean with trying to _help_? "Sir… quite honestly… I don't think I understand."

"Yeah, I don't think you understand, either," he nearly growls and it's not nice to have a feeling your superior currently thinks of you as only marginally more intelligent than your average amoeba. "Captain… just tell me why you went off on Major General Wells. That could have been the death sentence for your career and I _need_ to know why you'd do such a thing like that."

Yeah. Well. Of course he does. _He'_d probably be exactly the same if Jenna or Jason or Adam behaved fully out of character – okay, he probably wouldn't be like that if Jenna were genuinely nice without any dramatics beforehand for a change… he'd just wonder if she were maybe possessed by an alien or had been brainwashed – so yeah… Lorne does have a point.

However, it doesn't come easily to him. His first thought is "Wells had it coming" but that probably wouldn't really help his cause – even if it's one hundred percent true – and there are a few others along that line until he finally settles with, "Someone had to do it, sir."

Lorne raises one of his eyebrows. "Someone had to go and have General Wells' guts for garters?" That's a rather… unappetizing comparison but yeah, it does sum it up nicely.

"Yes, sir." Come on, he thinks, you think that, too. I _know_ you do. I have it on good authority that he nearly had your and Cadman's asses for getting into each others' pants.

Lorne takes a moment to think about that… and then he says, "Sit, Captain. Apparently, this conversation is going to take a few minutes."

Obedient, he does take a seat now and tries to look as dignified as possible, seeing as what he'll have to tell Lorne now will probably be anything _but_ dignified. Another raised eyebrow, then. "I'm listening, Captain."

Resisting a sigh, he steels himself and tries to sound absolutely professional when he starts his little story, "I'm pretty sure you already know that, sir, but… since it's imperative for understanding what happened, I'll state it again. Part of Lieutenant Wells'… issues stem from her rather… complicated relationship with her father."

Lorne nods. "I'm following. Go on."

"I think… I think a major problem is that there's a certain lack of… acceptance and appreciation for Lieutenant Wells as a person and as a soldier from General Wells." What he'd meant to say had been that General Wells is an asshole who apparently takes pleasure in withholding simple things like pride and affection from his only daughter, probably for the sole fact that she's not male. He just _bets_ it's that. It's always that with high-ranking fathers of military brat only daughters.

Again, Lorne nods and gestures for him to go on. "He thinks she's a screw-up, yes."

"But she's not!" Oops. That wasn't supposed to come out like _that_.

"I know that, don't worry." Ha! He'd _told_ her neither he nor Lorne nor _Sheppard_ think of her as a screw-up but would she _listen_ to that? _No_. She'd just muttered something like "don't make me laugh" and gone on to refuse the hand he'd offered her. "So you thought someone needed to confront General Wells about that?"

"In a nutshell, yes, sir." It's more than that, of course but maybe Lorne will be satisfied with that and not dwell further on the matter.

"And the feature-length version?" Right. Of _course_ the nutshell wouldn't suffice for Lorne.

The thing is… he can't talk about that. He can't even _think_ about that. Because if he does, he'll remember the blood again and helpless feeling when realizing that Jenna just sacrificed herself and the white-hot fury at seeing her father at her bed and deeming her a failure all over again, never even taking in consideration that she'd been lying there because she'd just saved three lives. "Captain?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I just…" Starting to lose composure, he rakes a hand through his hair.

"Take your time, Matt. One thing at a time." He's so caught up in trying to phrase what happened in professional terms that he nearly overhears the use of his first name. But he does catch it and a little absentmindedly he wonders how pathetic he must look that Lorne thinks he needs to take pity on him.

In the end, he says, "You read the report, sir. Did that sound like someone majorly screwing up to you?"

There. That will have to suffice. And from the look of it… surprisingly, it does. There's a tiny bit of understanding dawning on Lorne's face that's otherwise inscrutable again. "All I found in there were four capable soldiers who knew what they were doing and one of them who exceptionally lived up to the standards we set for our personnel here."

Yes, that's what he _wrote_ in there. He and everyone else who had anything to do with the mission the SGC had ordered them to take, since they'd been temporarily on loan from Atlantis that's still sitting in the San Francisco Bay. "General Wells didn't."

"What did _he_ read?" As if you don't know that, sir.

"Three soldiers who were capable and knew what they were doing and one who was exceptionally stupid, incompetent and a burden to the others." He'd _still_ like to get back at Wells and try that speech all over again. Although now he'd probably also make sure that "insolence" would be "physically attacking a superior officer" instead.

"How do you figure?" Stupid question.

"He said as much at Lieutenant Wells' bedside." When she'd just returned from the OR. With a tube in her mouth. He _really_ should have gone for "physically attacking" rather than "insolence". At least that he'd have had the satisfaction of _thoroughly_ having ruined his career for a very good cause.

Lorne takes a moment and then simply says, "I see," and the weirdest thing is that he thinks Lorne actually means that. Lorne _does_ see what was behind him telling General Wells that he's sick and tired of having to watch Jenna striving for her father's attention and appreciation every day, every _minute_ – she'd never admit to that but he's neither blind nor stupid – and denying herself the chance to be happy and let others come close because the General just wouldn't give her at least a teeny tiny bit to make her see that he actually cares about her. In a way, he'd been not exactly happy about Atlantis having returned to Earth because since they landed it's so much easier for General Wells to drop by and be an asshole to practically everyone around; Lorne, Sheppard and Woolsey included.

"Sir? Permission to ask a question?" Lorne looks expectantly at him and he adds, "What's going to happen now?" Am I supposed to hand my resignation in now or will you take care of that?

At that, Lorne rubs a hand over his face and it occurs to him that this probably wasn't easy for the Major either. "You want to know when you're supposed to turn in your government issue items?" He nods. "Can't tell you that, actually." What? "For some reason, the only thing General Wells did was report you and tell us that you were our problem and that he expects us to handle the situation as we see fit."

That's… weird. Almost as if… could be that… "Yeah, my thoughts exactly, Captain. Seems like something in your speech left an impression with the General." Hopefully it was the right one.

"So you're not going to throw me out?" A smirk from Lorne now.

"Not for the time being, no." That's a little too much… and the relief must have shown pretty much since Lorne adds, "Just an advice, Captain: next time… _you_ report the issue and let _us_ handle the situation as we see fit." He can only nod mutely, realizing that Lorne is _serious_. Well, okay, of course he is. Sheppard and he… they never let their soldiers down and he should have though of _that_ before. "So just to make you remember that… you're on KP duty for the next six weeks. Additionally, for the next six months, you'll be responsible for checking in every new arrival and checking out everyone leaving the Expedition. In your spare time."

KP duty. _KP duty_. Okay. And that checking in/checking out thing which will probably eat up his entire spare time if Atlantis ever manages to get back to Pegasus in the next six months. But that's okay. _Everything_ is better than never getting past Captain. And… he realizes it wasn't even for being insolent to the General. Just for not letting Sheppard and Lorne handle him in the first place. That's… Well. "And my records, sir?"

"Don't screw up our food and there won't be anything in them. _This_ time." He nods. He's insanely relieved but yes, he did hear the warning. They let him off the hook _extremely_ easy this time but they won't be so forthcoming next time it happens.

Yes, it does scare him a little at how little he questions the probability of there _being_ a next time.

"Thank you, sir," he can't help breathing and adding, "I just hope… it was worth it."

Lorne nods, looking a little grimly, "Yeah, me too." But then there's a little grin when he adds, "I think I saw Lieutenant Wells and her father talking to each other in the infirmary an hour ago."

The most ridiculous thing is how relieved he still feels about the fact that Jenna woke up a couple of hours ago. He'd paid her a visit shortly after they'd told her she'd woken up and he'd been pretty good at omitting the fact that the reason daddy had been at her bedside when she'd opened her eyes the first time had been because he'd pretty much kicked daddy's ass. To cover up the turmoil inside of him, he attempts a smirk himself. "Beg pardon, sir, but… talking to each other or _insulting_ each other?"

Lorne shrugs. "Not sure. Actually, I think it was just the General talking and the Lieutenant trying to insult him without speaking." He can just barely hide a grin. Yeah, she'd definitely try that. "But I think I also saw something that looked like the attempt of a smile on Lieutenant Wells' face at some point."

Mh, mh, right. A smile. On Jenna's face. When talking to _her father_. That totally sounds like her. Well, not. "That certainly would be something new, sir."

"Certainly." Lorne doesn't believe it any more than he does. Doesn't surprise him very much but what _does_ is that he adds, "By the way, I'd recommend you try to make Lieutenant Wells talk to Captain Reece when she and Major Moore are back on duty. The Captain knows a few things about thinking of yourself as a complete failure."

He has no idea what that's supposed to mean, seeing as the only reason Reece hasn't been promoted yet is probably because she's at the wrong end of the SGC bottleneck. Or maybe because she went and slept with her team leader and probably made an enemy of General Wells as well. Whatever it is, it's definitely _not_ because she's incompetent or stupid. Definitely not a failure, that one. However… Lorne usually knows what he's talking about so he nods and says, "I'll… consider it, sir."

Lorne opens his mouth to say something but suddenly his attention is diverted by the screen of his computer. He can't see what exactly is going on but from where he's sitting he can see messenger windows in several colors popping up in a frenzy, red being the first and foremost. For a very short moment, there's something like genuine panic and shock on Lorne's face but then he seems to have gotten back his usual grip on himself. He clears his throat and gets up. "If you'll excuse me, Captain… I need to take care of an urgent matter at the SGC."

Scrambling to his feet, he can't help asking, "Everything okay, sir?" because that look on Lorne's face looked like whatever happened was _personal_ rather than a threat to the galaxy.

There's something like a pained look for a moment and then Lorne says in a kind of tight voice, "Don't worry, Captain. It's not an incident of Galactic importance."

Well, yes, he'd presumed that already. Incidents of Galactic importance usually don't manage to make Lorne's façade fall like that. However, he has a feeling that he probably shouldn't intrude so he simply nods and says, "Good to know, sir."

Striding towards the door, Lorne throws at him "Remember, you start with KP duty, Captain. _Now_," and then he's in the hallway, probably just seconds away from breaking out in a run and throws back over his shoulder, "The Marine Sergeant on duty has the details," before he _does_ break into a run, after all.

For a moment, all he can do is stand there and stare at the rapidly vanishing figure of his boss. Then his last sentence registers and he realizes that _his _Sergeant is currently the Marine Sergeant on duty and that's all kinds of bad. Maybe… he'll delay go looking for him just long enough to pay Jenna another visit. He knows it's probably futile but he still has to try and prevent the news of his little outburst and the subsequent visit to Major Lorne's office from reaching Jenna. It definitely is worth a try, seeing as he'll be screwed if they do reach her after all.


	13. I'm OK Now

**A/N:** And... the second one. I thought I let you wait for so long, I shouldn't let you wait any longer, especially since this is kind of a companion piece/direct sequel to the last story. This one takes place maybe a couple of days_ after Possibly the Complications_ and gives us a glimpse at the character **leah** usually uses as her 1st POV narrator, Lieutenant Jenna Wells. Also, remember Maureen's and Tom's little trip to Russia from _Doing Crazy Things_? This is what Maureen and Laura are referring to here... and damn, I just realized I'm still owing you the second Russia smut... mh. I'll see what I can do about that.

Also, sorry for posting them so much out of order but that's really like they come. I'll see if I can find a better way to archieve them, alright? :)

* * *

**I'****m OK Now**

"_I am a spaceman flying high  
I am the astronaut in the sky  
Don't worry, I'm OK now  
I am the light in the dark  
I am the match  
I am the spark  
Don't worry I'm OK now."_

_Amy MacDonald, "Spark"_

"Okay. We're gone on holiday for two measly weeks and everything goes to pieces here? What were you thinking?" She opens her eyes to look at her best friend and wonders if she looks as crappy as she feels. It's been a couple of hours since they transferred her from the SGC's infirmary to the Atlantis one and despite her best efforts she's obviously not up to the rapid fire of questions Maureen has prepared for her. "You two, actually." And has prepared for a none too great looking Lieutenant Wells, as well, obviously.

"Seriously, both of you… yes, you too, Wells. Don't look at me like that. And what's this thing I hear about Captain Kemp getting himself in trouble? You two really trying to imitate _that_ one over there?" A little irritated, she makes the effort to drag herself up a little.

She even manages a little glare. "Yes, I'm glad to see you, too, Maureen. How was your vacation? Did Tom manage not to piss off _anyone_ for a change?"

A short glance over to Wells confirms that she's isn't all too thrilled to be approached by one of the quasi senior members of the Atlantis officer corps like that, either. Maureen, however, simply takes a step into the room and leans against a night stand between their beds. "For the record: there's no one Tom can't piss off. Otherwise, the vacation was… fine. It was… fine."

Something in that… makes her doubt the statement but she decides that if she's ever going to hear what Maureen meant, it'll be in a private conversation. Jenna Wells might have been here since the first or second wave and a very reliable and competent officer, despite certain misgivings from _someone_ further up the chain of command but some things are really are only meant for the ears of friends. "Nice to hear."

"Yeah," Maureen nods and then decides fro a dramatic change of topic with turning to Wells and saying, "Heard you became a hero, Lieutenant Wells."

Actually, that's what she heard herself. When Team Kemp had gotten back from their mission, dragging a barely breathing Jenna Wells with them who'd taken one for the team, she'd already been on that wretched training mission but Evan told her all about it and then some after they'd woken her up in the SGC and she'd pestered him to give her some distraction… well, within her limits, that is. Wells, however… doesn't seem like that because she shakes her head in dismay and rasps with a voice still fucked up from the tube they stuck down her throat, "It wasn't like that, ma'am."

Huh. "That's not how I heard it, Lieutenant. Way _I_ heard it… you saved your guys' asses." That really is what she heard. She can't remember the details and to be honest, Evan didn't even really _tell_ her the details, seeing as he'd probably thought she wasn't up to taking them in or some such nonsense but she does remember his genuine awe at what Wells did. And… his genuine aggravation about what Kemp had done after something General Wells must have said. She wishes she were back on par again, so she could go on a gossip scouting… ahem, no, _fact finding_ mission.

Little Wells, however… turns her gaze on the infirmary sheets that are draped over her legs and she can see the Lieutenant's hands fretting with the fabric while she grinds out, "I'm not you, ma'am. I really don't deserve the praise."

She exchanges a short look with Maureen and her friend just gives her a minute nod so she twists her bruised and battered body so that she can face Wells. "Lieutenant…" she sighs and thinks this warrants something other than rank, "Jenna, I got blown up because someone miscalculated the explosives on a training mission. Nothing glorious in _that_."

"And you also happened to scare the living daylights out of me, I might add," Maureen murmurs.

At that, she can't help murmuring back, "Should have seen the crap I scared out of _Evan_." And that… gives her _another_ idea. "By the way… seems like _you_ also scared the crap out of some people, Lieutenant."

Wells gives off even more hostile and uncomfortable waves, if that's even possible. "I have no idea what or who you're talking about. Ma'am."

Uh-huh, sure you don't, she wants to say but this time Maureen shakes her head. "I think the Captain was talking about your team mates. And your father." Aw, _not_ fair. Why isn't she allowed to say stuff like that but Maureen takes the liberty to do just that?

"I'm pretty sure my father had better things to do than be worried about me," Wells just scoffs and… and that's it. Nothing about her teammates. Huh, she thinks, that's _really_ weird.

She exchanges another look with Maureen and this time it's Maureen who has the questioning look but she raises her eyebrows to indicate that this is Maureen's show now, since she'd been so eager to volunteer the first time and everything. After slightly rolling her eyes, Maureen turns back to Wells. "Actually, I don't think that. Every parent worries about their kids. Mine sure did," she says and adds a shrug. Well… that's going to be interesting, she thinks.

The Lieutenant seems to be genuinely confused now… confused enough that she looks up from her sheets and frowns at Maureen. "Ma'am?"

"They got killed when I was in college," Maureen replies matter-of-factly but she has a feeling that it's still getting to her. "Car accident," her friend adds, still matter-of-factly, and she starts to think she knows where this is heading, "Killed them both instantly. I think they were fighting when it happened. They were _always_ fighting, actually… but they worried about me. I think the last thing my mother told me was not to go out on campus after dark because I surely wasn't up to defending myself."

That's something Maureen never told her before. She knew about the car accident and that there was nothing to save of them but she didn't know about that last words bit. For some reason… that makes Wells frown again, but now it's a frown of contemplation, as if she's trying to sort through what she just heard. "What was the last thing you told them, ma'am? If… I might ask, that is."

"You may," Maureen replies, a little amused half-smile on her lips. "I told my mother that I wasn't a little girl anymore and asked her not to treat me like one, goddammit." Well, that's a bit obvious now. And of course now Maureen goes in for the kill. "Took me a couple of years to realize she never meant to be patronizing. I don't even think she really thought I couldn't defend myself when I needed to. She just didn't know another way to say she was worried."

Another frown. "So you're essentially telling me to suck it up and pretend he only calls me a failure because he's worried about me? Because that sure would be pretty twisted."

There she goes again. And then… it just kind of slips out. "Maybe he'd stop calling you a failure if _you_ stopped calling yourself one." There. Someone really needed to say that and if neither Evan nor Sheppard nor _Kemp_ or her team did it, she had to do it.

However, that also… effectively put a stop on any conversation. Maureen looks like she's torn between putting a hand over her eyes in exasperation and congratulating her on saying something everyone who'd known Wells just a _little_ closer had been _dying_ to say at some point or other. And Wells returned to the sheets, her hands curling around the fabric and her face returning to the ashen color it must have looked when she'd been still on artificial respiration.

In the end, it's Maureen who takes the difficult task to pull Wells away from the edge she likes to go to so frequently upon her. "What Captain Cadman-Lorne here had wanted to say was that even in the highly unlikely event that your father _does_ think you're a screw-up – which I seriously doubt, given everything I know about you – it doesn't matter. Not as much as _you_ thinking as a screw-up of yourself."

There's a snort and if she weren't so weary of Wells' extremely self-deprecating attitude, she'd even think it heartbreaking. "Frankly I don't know anyone who _doesn't_ think I'm a failure."

Yeah, Maureen's losing patience now as well. She can tell from the rigid set of her shoulders and the slightly impatient tapping of her right foot. "Jenna… that's not true, and you know it. _I_ don't think you're a failure. Tom… Major Moore doesn't, either, by the way but don't tell him I said that."

A-_ha_, Wells nearly grinned. So she really does have a sense of humor. Well, that deserves a reward. "Major Lorne doesn't, either, and you should know _that_. You wouldn't still be here if Sheppard and Evan thought you didn't belong here." Come on, she thinks, there's no disputing _that_, seeing as they've all seen Sheppard or Evan deal with soldiers who _couldn't_ cut it at some point in their time in Atlantis.

Wells abandoned the sheets again and is actually looking at them again. And has the guts to throw in, "But…"

"Captain Kemp doesn't think you're a failure, either." Whoa, she thinks, Maureen's really on a roll today. Maybe her vacation wasn't that bad, after all. Someone's demonstrating that her oak leaves are clearly overdue, and if it's just for pure cunning.

"Captain Kemp made an idiot out of himself," Wells grumbles and hey, that's actually kinda cute. It looks just a bit like she probably does when she thinks Evan did something really stupid… something really stupid _on her behalf_.

"Yeah, he probably did," Maureen agrees and then adds grinning, "but the worst thing is that he did it for _you_." Tom apparently started rubbing off on her. _Big_ time.

Wells' first reaction is to go beet red in the face and frantically search for a reply. And she's pretty sure she would have found one in due time but… well, there's a new face in the doorway. "Hey, you still being a lazy… oh. Captain Reece… Captain Cadman-Lorne… ma'ams."

Look at that. The man who made an idiot out of himself for little Wells. If that isn't a weird coincidence. God, must not laugh, must not laugh, must not… "Captain Kemp. How nice to see you. How are you?"

It's _amazing_ how Maureen can keep her countenance, even in situations like these she thinks. Definitely oak leaf material here. Kemp seems even a little intimidated by her. "I'm… fine, ma'am, thanks. How was your vacation?"

Seeing Kemp now, all stiff formality and wariness, she wonders how much of the stuff about that near legendary outburst people keep telling her about left, right and center is actually true. The Kemp she's seeing now… doesn't look like he'd have it in him to go full force at a certain Major General but even Evan, who's really not prone for exaggerations, said the only reason he hadn't relieved Kemp of his Captain's bars on the spot had been that it had been Major General _Wells_ he'd had a go at. Well, that and the fact that the old geezer seemed to have known full well that there had been more truth than was even remotely comfortable in whatever Kemp had told him.

"Very nice, thank you for asking." She wonders if Maureen is thinking the same but then again Maureen has that uncanny knack to predict stuff like that much better than she could. Of course she'd known Kemp definitely had a soft sport for Wells – she'd seen the two of them at last year's Christmas party, for Heaven's sake – but that he would go _that_ far? That sure had been surprising.

There's a moment of uncomfortable silence and then it's Maureen who takes initiative again. "Well, there's still the question of backlog, though. I think I'll go tackle some of that now." Yeah, right, and leave her alone with the two… teammates. "See you later, Laura? Lieutenant Wells?"

Surprise lights up on Wells' face for a moment – and sure as hell on _Kemp's_ face as well – and seems to have been so overwhelming that the Lieutenant can only nod. She, however, doesn't feel so tongue-tied. "Sure," she says and… can barely suppress a yawn. Dammit, it's been only two hours or so she's been awake now.

With that, Maureen takes her leave, not without a meaningful little glance in the direction of Wells and Kemp that is apparently supposed to tell her to give them some room. Yeah, right, you try and walk out of a room when being wired to a couple of monitors and feeling generally sore all over, she wants to tell her but… one look at Wells and Kemp confirms that she might have wanted to listen in on them if she'd been her normal self but gladly turns over, as difficult as it is, to face the other way.

All of a sudden, she feels way too tired to watch them dance around each other. It's obviously gonna be a while, she thinks, before she can go round… bringing the right people together and she doesn't even get to hear Kemp asking Wells what the hell that had been about or realize that Evan just poked his head into the room as well because pain and exhaustion have claimed her the moment she closed her eyes and thought that she really needs to get on her feet again ASAP, seeing as there's still a _lot_ to do for her here.


	14. Made for Walking

**A/N:** Okay, I'm sorry for jumping like this through the timeline... but for this one, we need to go back to *consults timeline spread sheet* shortly after _Raising the Stakes_, that is, Laura and Evan still think what they're doing is secret and Tom and Maureen... well, let's not talk about that now. Let's keep that for later. Instead, let's talk about Team Kemp again. They don't actually appear here but I love the fact that they still could drive Tom crazy. And I _really_ hope that at some point we _will_ see the Team Kemp story that belongs to this in English. I haven't given up faith yet.

Also, I haven't given up faith yet that **mackenziesmomma** might one day find her way out of beta hell again. Fluffy handcuffs, huh?

* * *

**Made for Walking**

"_These boots are made for walking,  
and that's just what they'll do  
one of these days these boots  
are gonna walk all over you."_

_Nancy Sinatra, "These Boots are Made for Walkin'"_

"So…" Sheppard says and is about to bring up the next item on the to do list when suddenly the door bangs open.

Or _would_ have banged open if it weren't a sliding door. But, and that's part scary, part amazing, the man who just stormed into Sheppard's office can actually make it appear as _if_ the door just banged open.

"I _quit_!" Moore announces and… and that's it. He announced that and then he's about to turn around and just march out again.

Thankfully, he's fast and alert enough to stop him with a reasonably matter-of-fact, "Quit what, _Major_ Moore?"

It's not like he doesn't have a fair idea what Moore might be wanting to quit but he certainly will _not_ let him get away with just charging into the office of their superior, interrupting a pretty important meeting and embarrassing himself in front of said superior. Even though Moore's probably the only one he knows who somehow _could_ get away with something like that. He got away with being half-drunk, half hung over and _still_ acing that near un-aceable International Law exam at the Academy, after all.

Consequently Moore, of course, doesn't look much impressed. He just turns around and rolls his eyes. "Team Kemp. They're fucking insane." So… what's new about that, he wants to ask but Moore isn't finished yet. "Seriously, I think they all have a death wish. And they're _your_ problem now."

Again, there's an attempt to leave the room but this time Sheppard thinks he should have a say in it as well. Simply raising his eyebrow and looking just a _little_ ticked off, he reminds Moore, "They're your problem now, _sir_."

"Of course, sir." For a moment, Moore actually manages to look something like contrite but it could also have been a trick of light because the next thing he says is, "Anyway... I'm outta here. Do what you want with them, I'm done." And then… he _is_ gone.

What the… and why's Sheppard looking at _him_ now, all expecting and discreetly pissed off. Unfortunately, the only thing coming to his mind is a kind of impatient sounding, "…what?"

Sheppard just shrugs and volunteers, "He's _your_ Academy buddy."

And that makes this _my_ responsibility how, he's tempted to ask but of course this _is_ his responsibility because it _had_ been his idea to push Team Kemp through the Thomas Moore School for Spy Hard Asses, the crash course version. It's their turn for the routine covert observation they put on the Genii and unlike the rest of the teams that had been in rotation before them, none of them has any record with insertion and covert ops. He sighs. "Oh, _fine_," and gets up.

"Just make sure he doesn't break anything, Major. Or any_one_," Sheppard adds, still not looking really happy about this and well, that's perfectly understandable. He's not happy about having to resolve this either, seeing as despite his usual antics, Moore usually also has good reasons for being in a huff like that.

"Will do, sir. I'll get back to you once I got this under control." His CO nods, with a "yeah, you better" expression on his face and he takes that as his final clue to leave.

So… where to find Moore? Usually, he'd take the direct route to Maureen Reece's office but first of all she was scheduled for a linguistics department meeting at the moment and secondly… for some reason he has a feeling there's something keeping Moore away from her office. Has been keeping him away from it for a while now, actually. Something's… up with them but right now, he prefers not to think about what the hell that could be. They're adults, they can very well sort it out between the two of them. Or at least he hopes they can.

Anyway, he needs to… ah, look who's stalking down the corridor towards the workout room. With a few measured strides, he reaches a pretty much seething Thomas Moore. "You know… I never pegged you as a drama queen, Tom."

For a moment, there's grim silence and determined tromping on from Moore for a couple of steps. Then, "I wasn't being a drama queen. I was being dead serious."

Yes, _and_ a drama queen. But… it probably wouldn't serve his agenda very well to stress that again. So instead he tries to keep the eye rolling to a minimum and says, "Really? Coulda fooled me."

"Just fuck off," Moore growls and he's tempted to correct him, like Sheppard did, just to rile him up.

"Just fuck off, _sir_." Okay, and he very obviously couldn't _resist_ the temptation.

Moore answers that with a grunt and… stops. Huh. "I mean it, Evan. Just leave me alone. Training Team Kemp was a stupid idea and you better find someone else because _I_ ain't gonna do it anymore."

Now that's just bullshit. It was a very _good_ idea to ask Moore to do that, seeing as since Major Mikhail Stoikov, Russian Army, left Atlantis a couple of weeks ago, Moore is the only officer left with some _real_ Black Ops experience; the only one who actually got schooled on insertion, sabotage… and he doesn't want to think about what else they probably taught him in spy school. Okay, _not_-spy school. Anyway… "You do realize that it's _not_ just your decision, right?"

"This time, it is. Seriously, Evan, this… this is madness." He raises an eyebrow.

"Care to tell me what "this" actually is?" Because he'd really like to know. Honestly.

At first, it looks like Moore won't volunteer any information but then he rolls his eyes, shakes his head and says, "Their… idiocy. Seriously, you wouldn't… Look, I gave them a task. Totally normal thing to do when training people, right?"

He nods, trying not to look too skeptical. "Sure."

"Right. So… I just gave them a box, with some tools in it. The kind of weird assortment that looks like you can't do anything with it." He nods again. Yeah, he knows those as well. "And I gave them their premises, an objective and an ETA. Nothing really hard," he doesn't really believe _that_, seeing as Moore and the rest of the world seem to have slightly different definitions of the term "nothing really hard", "and with the combination of their skills, they could totally have solved it in less than half the time objective I gave them. And now guess what they did."

He shrugs. "Took a minute too long?"

Obviously, it's a miracle Moore just didn't kick the wall behind him in frustration. "No, they nearly went at each others' throats." Damn, must not laugh, must not laugh, must not… "This is _not_ funny, Evan. I swear two seconds into the exercise, Kemp and Wells were ready to take it to the shooting range and the two Fs were egging them on. The only way I could prevent bloodshed was that I bellowed them into the ground and made them sit in timeout. In their respective quarters."

Uh-huh, yeah right. Bloodshed. As if.

Except. Moore isn't prone to exaggerations. He likes to show off now and then but he _never_ exaggerates in professional matters. And okay, it's not like he can't imagine the scene; in HD. So yes, ever since Wells came back from her forced stay on Earth the relationship between her and Kemp had seen an improvement… but that improvement mainly had been that they didn't take their hostilities to the fairground anymore. Obviously, that hadn't meant that the hostilities _stopped_.

Damn, he should have known that.

But then again, he kind of did which was another reason why he'd chosen _Moore_ to do the training, convinced that if there was one officer able to keep Team Kemp on a short leash without alienating them, it would be him. Okay so… he knows it'll probably be futile but… you can still try, can't you? "Okay, so… that sounds like a fuck-up alright. But until then they were cooperative, weren't they?" The gloomy look on Moore's face doesn't look like he agrees but he holds his tongue which is a good sign that despite not wanting to, he _does_ agree. "So… just try again?" Okay, he could order Moore to just do it but… he does get the problem very well.

However, Moore doesn't exactly make it easy for him _not_ to make it an order. "Fuck it, Evan, I have a _lot_ of better things to do with my time. You remember that team I command? Yeah, that's one of them." Why is it that the moment Moore says that, he thinks that it's rather one team member than the entire team that Moore means?

Oh, maybe because since about two weeks or so ago, Reece and Moore are avoiding each other like the plague. To their credit, they're actually trying to be very discreet about it but… you just can't keep a secret in Atlantis for very long. Granted, he's trying to do it anyway with Laura but… that's not the issue right now.

There's a moment where he considers pussyfooting around it, trying to phrase what he's about to say very carefully… but decides against it in the end. Pussyfooting around an issue was _never_ part of their friendship and it sure as hell won't start to be one now. Giving Moore a frown, he says, "Tom, that thing between you and Reece, whatever it is… get a grip on it."

Suddenly, he can see Tom's walls go up, as if he's digging himself in even more rapidly than an infantry grunt and he says dangerously low, "None of your fucking business, Lorne." Jesus fucking Christ, what did they _do_?

On second thought… he really doesn't want to know. Even though he probably should want to know that. Ah, hell. "It is when it concerns my soldiers. And that's _both_ of you."

Sometimes, bringing up the duty argument actually helps in reasoning with Moore. Today, though… it looks almost like there's no reasoning _whatsoever_ with him. He sighs. "Look, Tom, I don't really care what it is…" which kind of is a lie, "as long as it doesn't affect your performances."

It only earns him a defiantly sounding, "My performance is fine, thank you."

And yes, he did notice that Moore was only talking about _his_ performance and he wonders which one of the myriad reasons that come to his minds for that is the true one. Which is, in the end, another one of those questions he doesn't really want to have an answer to. So he concentrates on the issue at hand. "Actually, taking it out on Team Kemp is _not_ what I'd call top notch performance."

Now it's Moore who's rolling his eyes. "I wasn't taking it out on them. I was _training_ them."

He can just barely keep from sighing. "That's not what I meant, Tom. Training them was fine… quitting that training just because they annoy you is not." There, that should really be convincing enough…

"They weren't just annoying me. They were very obviously not interested in _being_ trained." Okay, no, it wasn't. Not that he expected differently but… it's getting just a _little_ tiresome, mostly because he has no idea who else he could ask to train Team Kemp for that, except Sergeant DeLisle and he has a feeling that Moore will make the Sergeant unavailable for him the moment he walks away with having quit the training.

So… mission objective number one: keep Moore from quitting. What could he… oh, right. Well, that was a no brainer. "No, they were just being themselves. Don't tell me you can't handle Team Kemp being themselves."

Moore doesn't say anything, even if he looked like he'd wanted to. Instead he glowers at him but he _thinks_ he actually sees the moment Moore finally sees reason. And yeah, only second or so later, Moore growls, "You can be such an asshole."

True, of course. He'd never admit to that but… appealing to Tom's ambition and stubbornness was a little low but desperate times demand desperate measures. So he just shrugs. "But I'm right."

Moore makes a face. "That's why you're an asshole."

Oh come _on_. He rolls his eyes again. "Get over it, Tom."

Moore just grunts, "Fine," but doesn't make a move to announce to Team Kemp that their time on the naughty step is up.

He feels the need to… encourage Moore a little. "Come on, you so very much want to get back and kick their asses."

"I said _fine_," Moore snaps but then… he obviously can't hold back a little smirk when he adds, "And okay, yeah, I do."

Yeah, right, that's what he thought. Grinning a little himself now, he just asks, "What are you waiting for then?"

With a little overdramatic sigh and then a squaring of his shoulders that's equally just for show, Moore replies, "You got it."

But… still here. Need to change that, if they really want to send Team Kemp into the dangerous world of undercover work. "Course I do. Get _going_."

For a moment… he thinks Moore will continue just standing there and talking nonsense – and he just _now_ starts to realize that the only reason Moore is still here is that he's making a pretty good target for mocking – but then he simply nods and grins and gives him an only half serious, "Yes, sir." With that, Moore turns around and he turns around and they both… "And give my regards to Lieutenant Cadman when you see her tonight."

What the _hell_? And why is he suddenly… hey, Moore's not supposed to be running away now and did he just hear him laugh out loud, just like he always did at the Academy when he'd scored another point in the endless game of annoying everyone and their mother with catching them unawares with all kinds of crap from their personal life?

That's just… it's… ah, hell, he _will_ get back at him for that some day. Now, though… he has to finish that meeting with Sheppard and also find a way to tell Laura she needs to find another route to his quarters. Oh well, at least… he's got something positive to tell Sheppard and something amusing to tell Laura now and really, that's more than he could ask for today. Really could have gone worse.


	15. A Deep Sea of Blankets

**A/N:** Anyone remember _Possibly the Complications_? This is a follow up, taking place about three weeks or so later, and referring to the trigger events from said story. So if you didn't read that, probably shouldn't read this, either. For everyone else: smutty smut smut. Uh-huh.

Also, if everyone is wondering about my suddenly very increased posting frequency: **mackenziesmomma** is working on her beta back log to get ready for December and the story I promise people in my Holiday Fic Request meme on LJ and _I_ am working on my posting back log...

* * *

**A Deep Sea of Blankets**

"_You want love?  
We'll make it  
Swim in a deep sea  
Of blankets  
Take all your big plans  
And break 'em  
This is bound to be awhile."_

_John Mayer, "Your Body is a Wonderland"_

She's beautiful. That's what it always comes down to in the end. When he watches her sleep in the morning, that is. It happens now and then, usually when they're both on the graveyard shift and sleeping in or when it's their mutual day off and when he didn't fall into bed tired enough that he could sleep an entire day, which happens way too often… but not today.

Today he woke up around 0900, listening to the waves rolling against the beach his parents' guestroom looks out on, Laura lying beside him. There's a second set of windows facing south and tentative rays of sunshine lick at the foot of the bed and soft wind is billowing the curtains. Still pleasantly drowsy, he lazily turns his head toward Laura again.

She's lying on her stomach, hugging her pillow, her face turned toward him and her beautiful hair spilled all around her. Her eyes are still closed and her lips are slightly parted, just _begging_ him to kiss them but the sound of her regular deep breathing is so precious right in this moment that he doesn't dare to move.

Because see, it's been three weeks since she nearly got blown up on a training mission for the SGC – she'd been supposed to whip their NCOs in shape, just like she'd done with Atlantis's NCOs a couple of months back – and while officially, they're here on simple leave, for her it was _convalescent_ leave. And if he looks really close, he can even still see remnants of the bruises that had covered her body shining through her beautiful translucent skin… and they'd just been her least worry back then.

God, he still remembers those awful two days when she'd been in an artificial coma, to let whatever technology they'd used heal her body. She'd still been pretty weak when they woke her up but at least she had woken up _at all_. It had taken her another week in the Atlantis infirmary until they had decided that they could discharge her and yeah, he had a pretty hard time of convincing her to take it easy… until he'd found her curled up on the sofa crying with frustration after arguing with her mother about currently _not_ being able to buy a damn dress and no she could _not_ tell her why, thank you very much.

After that, he'd simply told her to pack for a couple of weeks because they'd been scheduled for leave anyway, had told his parents he needed the beach house for exactly those couple of weeks and had sworn his mother to secrecy that she would not reveal their location to _anyone_, not even under torture. Actually, that had been one of the very few times ever Laura had simply done what he'd told her to do, no questions asked.

So now they're here and he still feels the constant urge to pull her into his arms and thank God for not taking her away from him and most of all to never let her go _out there_ again every damn minute of every damn day. He also is being reminded of the fact that she lost a baby he still hasn't told her about but he became pretty good at ignoring that. If he didn't, it would probably eat him up alive.

He looks at her again, actually turns around very carefully, so as not to wake her up just yet. To him, it's a small miracle that she's lying beside him now because _God_ it could have gone so much worse. Somehow, this had been worse than any other time she'd been hit before.

He doesn't know _what_ it was because it certainly wasn't the first time seeing her in ICU… maybe it was the tube in her mouth and the way her skin looked almost whiter than the sheets on her bed and… and… how _small_ she looked. Yeah… that was it. So small and fragile and that's just not the Laura he's used to and the realization that he could _really_ lose her in the blink of an eye had hit him with breathtaking brutality and…

_Just fucking stop it_. He did _not_ lose her and she's practically fully recovered, lying beside him warm and breathing and… smelling so damn good, too. Alright, he knows he should probably let her sleep but there's this need to reassure himself that she's really here so he slowly raises himself up and very softly moves her hair away from her naked shoulder. There's her skin now and he bends down to put a very light kiss on it.

At first, she doesn't stir, just keeps on breathing deeply and regularly and he can't resist trailing his index finger along the exposed upper half of her back and boy does he love it that she decided to take up sleeping naked again here, where the danger of being roused from her sleep in the middle of the night for any kind of emergency is near zero, even with the memory of his stint as a Goa'uld host ghosting through the house now and then.

And anyway, that's not what he wanted to think about now. All he wants to think about _now_ is that she took to wearing nothing in bed and that it's so wonderful to feel her skin and he just has to give in to the temptation of drawing butterfly light patterns on her back…

"Mh, watcha doin'?" What… oh. Half-lidded hazel eyes full of sleep squint at him from under a lock of strawberry blond hair that fell into her face. Oh _God_.

"Using my favorite canvas to paint on." Hey, that was pretty smooth, considering that probably ninety per cent of his brain just went to mush when she smiled drowsily, kind of like a cat just having woken from a nap.

There's a little sleepy frown, or maybe it's a pout and it's not really important what it is anyway because whatever it is, it's _killing_ him. "'M no canvas, featherbrain."

He can't help but grin and bend down to kiss her nose. "Sure are, little bullet head."

"'M no bullet head, either." Oh, yes, she very much is. But _Jesus_ is she adorable when she's being it still half-asleep. "Stop talking nonsense." To emphasize her point, she makes the effort to rise from her position high enough to kiss him on the mouth and that… that's kinda his undoing.

Keeping on kissing her, he gently rolls her on her back and for a fleeting moment the thought that they're in _his parents' house_ and shouldn't that kind of keep them from any extracurricular activities, if her state as a recoveree didn't, floats to the surface of his rather preoccupied mind but it's gone before he even decides whether to make an effort to keep it or not.

It's much better to kiss that wonderful spot just below her right ear to make her arch her back slightly, anyway. And to run his hand down her side, as slow as possible, so as not to miss an inch of precious uncovered skin, still cool despite the rays of sun warming the room up. And to feel one of her hands run through his hair, grasping it when he hits the hollow of her throat with his lips, another one of his favorite sensitive spots.

It _never_ fails to make her whimper just a little bit, almost inaudible, and that's one of the most beautiful sounds he knows. So… goddamn… beautiful… "Didn't you say… should take it… easy?"

How the _hell_ can she think… okay. Yes, he did. Which is why until now, there had been a lot of cuddling but not a lot of _other_ activities even though he'd _ached_ to touch her, _all_ of her… Well. He looks up, grins at her. "I _am_ taking it easy with you. Making it really nice and slow…"

"Evil bastard," she says but it truly lacks any hostility at all. There's even that wonderful wicked grin hinted at that he loves so much.

"Didn't hear you complaining about it before," is all he can muster up and then he just _has_ to pay her wonderful breasts the respect they deserve. Wonderful firm and round and… damn, he can still make her bury her hand in his hair and writhe beneath him, even after knowing her body and her reactions inside out.

What's almost better, though, is that she just needs to whisper his name and slide her foot along his legs to make _him_ all fuzzy… with the sheets between them. That's almost like torture, that flimsy piece of fabric between the skin of her foot and that of his legs… determined not to be outdone by her, he moves his mouth further down south… and suddenly he stops.

There's… the scar where they needed to cut her skin to rearrange her broken ribs. It's a couple of weeks old now but still fresh and pink and he can't stop staring at it, unable to breathe. So close… he came so _close_ to losing her. He… "Evan?" What? "Hey… you okay?"

Forcing himself to tear his gaze away, he lifts himself up on his hands and looks at her. The beautiful hair is a little disheveled but still spread all around her, spilling partly over her shoulders, the freckles on her face are even more prominent after a week on the beach, those wonderful lips are parted slightly… and her eyes are looking questioningly at him. "Yeah," he hears himself say hoarsely, while moving towards her face again, "I'm good."

With that, he kisses her again, gently straddling her, trying not to get tangled in the sheets. He kisses her as if he might never be able to kiss her again, cupping her face with his hands and taking his time, savoring her. After an endless moments, he dimly registers that she must have caught on and maybe she even has an idea what made him react like that because she's scary like that sometimes and anyway, he feels her responding to his kiss in the same feverish but slow way.

After that, he takes care to cover every spot of her naked skin he can possibly reach, kind of memorizing her contours so he will never forget them and she makes him insane with distracting him again and again with putting those nimble fingers to good use in every sensitive spot she ever must have discovered on his body. Jesus fucking Christ in fucking Heaven, she's just so fucking _good_.

Okay, so there's this one awkward moment he dimly remembers that she'd been on all kinds of meds recently and that Jennifer said something about taking care she might not end up pregnant again in the near future and he uses the very small portion of his brain that has not turned to that hot, fuzzy place it always goes when he's loving Laura as desperately and as slowly as that to fumble around one-handedly for protection in the nightstand's drawer… And when he gets it, she looks at him quizzically, even through the haze he induced and he finds himself stammering something about recently having been on a planet with an… interesting effect on the human procreative drive and just wanted to take care, in case the effect hadn't completely worn off before he went on leave…

For a moment she stares at him dumbfounded but then her laughter rings through the room, clear and warm like the morning light pouring in and sparkling like the sea outside and well, she then takes matters in her own hands, so to speak, so they get that sorted out pretty fast and can get back to business.

And _God_, what business that is. Still wanting to take it slow, he moves carefully and slowly enough to make her swearing at him that if he doesn't speed it up _right fucking now_ she'll find something to _make_ him give her what she needs from him. He is, of course, only too happy to oblige her and there comes this moment where he just can't hold it back anymore and just lets _go_…

Later, just after catching their breath again, he's lying on his back, his arm around her and her head on his chest. Her fingers draw little circles on his abs, just high up enough above the waistline to be teasing. Right now, though, all he feels is warm contentment and the feeling that he could stay like this for all eternity.

"Evan?", she says after another moment and he can only offer an inarticulate questioning sound. "How about we stay in bed today?"

Mh. They'll have to eat at some point and she started her running routine again two days ago and he'd offered to accompany her to make sure she wouldn't push herself past her limits and he promised his mother he'd do something about the recalcitrant plumbing in the kitchen… "Whatever you want, Buttercup, what_ever_ you want."

Okay, so that was not what he should have said but all the things they'd planned for today pale when she breathes a very content, "Good, farm boy." A day in bed it is. Well, there could definitely be worse ways spending it.


	16. Knocked Down

**A/N:** Another one that involves Team Kemp... Evan would like to add that if they didn't screw up missions so often, they wouldn't appear so often here. Idiot.

Anyway, takes place three weeks after _Made for Walking_ (so Team Kemp is back from the mission Tom was training them for) and around the time of _Wouldn't Hurt to Tell the Truth_, so Sheppard probably doesn't know he's going to have to chew out _Evan_ a little later as well...

* * *

**Knocked Down**

_"I've seen hard times and been on my knees  
Where I've admitted defeat by my enemies  
I've been knocked down and I've been burned by the best_

_But the fights I've never faced  
Are the only mistakes I'll regret."_

_Kyle Park, "Mistakes I'll Regret"_

Well. That's going to be fun. Or not, if you consider the way Team Kemp just materialized in the control room, after several weeks of being completely unaccounted for. Weeks, he would like to add, during which he was starting to question the decision to send them undercover and most of all starting to wonder how long he'd have to live after he had to give a certain General not so fortunate news about his daughter, not to mention having to write more letters to next of kin... And he's pretty sure Sheppard had just about the same thoughts until they were back, so he does understand why he's trying to stare Kemp down like he's doing now.

It's also why he never argued when Sheppard told him that this will be _his_ show today, even though he knows how much Sheppard hates having to chew out junior officers and how foul a mood that it always puts him in. So he's taking a backseat in this, leaning back in his chair next to Sheppard in the briefing room when Kemp enters the room, his undercover disguise soiled with Ferrier's blood and a couple of other things he's not sure he really wants to have floating through Atlantis's air. The Lieutenant performs a textbook report and even manages to look alert, fresh faced and ready to go out on a mission for a moment.

Then the moment is gone and all that's left in Kemp's entire posture is weariness and the weight of the world on his shoulders. Somehow... he starts to sympathize with the Lieutenant but then he remembers the grey hairs Laura found a couple of days ago and teased him mercilessly with and reminds himself that Team Kemp contributed a lot to those grey hairs. That actually makes it easier not to remind Sheppard with one last look to go easy on Kemp.

"So, Lieutenant... how about you tell us what happened in the last three weeks? We're both _dying_ to know what you and your team were up to," Sheppard drawls and it _almost_ sounds like his usual relaxed twang but there's something in it... that he'd call menacing. Or at least something that should alert you to the possibility of shouting further down the line.

Kemp... seems to have heard it, too because he can see a short crack in the Lieutenant's still professional façade. Then he seems to have decided to just ignore it and get this over with as fast as possible. "My team and I were inserted to Genii territory to gather information on the structures inside the Genii society and the threat potential in regard to Atlantis four weeks ago." Yeah, well, so far they _know_ all of that and he can see it brewing beneath Sheppard's rather impassive surface. So far, though, the Colonel seems to have decided to keep quiet and let Kemp try to talk his way out of this. "We were using misinformation that Captain Morgan's team disseminated among the Genii population and their allies in the last undercover rotation as basis for our cover." Yes, they knew that, _too_.

And Sheppard's patience is starting to wan as well. "Lieutenant. How about you just cut all the beating around the bush crap and tell us how the hell Jason Ferrier ended up in Dr. Keller's OR?"

Did he just imagine it or did Kemp really flinch at the cutting undertone in Sheppard's voice? He certainly would have in Kemp's stead because this really isn't like the Sheppard most of his soldiers know and like – mostly because Sheppard usually leaves the unpleasant tasks to him, at _his_ suggestion and request. Kemp also visibly swallows before going on, "Basically, sir, we undertook a mission for the Genii as part of our cover and it didn't go as planned."

"I'm pretty sure you wanted to say "went to hell in a hand basket", didn't you, Lieutenant?" Sheppard interjects and the Lieutenant swallows again.

This time, there's a moment of silence before Kemp simply says, "Yes, sir."

"What the hell _happened_, Lieutenant?" For just a moment, Kemp's eyes flicker over to him and he's almost tempted to give the Lieutenant an encouraging nod but there's still the slightly unfavorable detail of Team Kemp practically having been AWOL for almost three weeks and while he's quite aware of the fact that theirs was a deep cover mission that made it nearly impossible for them to contact Atlantis without compromising their cover, he's also aware of the fact that there's another of Sheppard's and his soldiers in the OR and he really hopes for his sake that Kemp has a good explanation for that.

"My team and I infiltrated the Genii settlement and took our respective places in their routine. The intended "discovery" by the Genii forces went as planned and we were accepted in our new roles. While Lieutenant Ferrier, Sergeant Faraday and I did mostly physical work on the surface and scouted the perimeter, Lieutenant Wells helped the Genii to develop their shielding technology while gathering information on their scientific progress in the process." So far... it actually doesn't sound bad. In fact, it sounds pretty much what they'd been hoping for when they sent Team Kemp on their way with a crash course in infiltration and sabotage and good wishes. He's starting to wonder what they did wrong enough that it ended with one of their own wounded.

He's waiting for Kemp to go on but the Lieutenant hesitates, looking at Sheppard again and while he understands Sheppard in his agitation, he also wants Kemp to give them a comprehensive report... so he can see if the Lieutenant screwed up as much as he fears or if he did how they all expected of him. He tries to keep from sighing and simply tells Kemp, "Go on, Lieutenant. So far, we're following."

Sheppard, on the other side of the table looks like he'd like to remind Kemp that what he wants most of him is to get to the _point_ but since it looks like he's going to be the good cop in this game, he simply tries to signal Sheppard to have just a little more patience and let the Lieutenant finish his report.

Kemp seems to have seen it and after a short gesture from Sheppard, he seems to soldier up again and continues, "The nominal settlement's leader was a male Genii going by the name of Roghan but as we found out pretty far, the _actual_ leader was a woman going by the name of Nera. Lieutenant Wells worked closest with her, so she could inform us about everything going on in the Genii compound. It was through her that we learned about Ladon Radim visiting the settlement to inspect the progress on the shield emitter."

Again, he looks at Sheppard and he just gives him a minute shake of his head. Yeah, well. They both know that this is exactly the kind of information they'd usually go after in a normal debriefing and they _definitely_ will have to talk to Kemp's team and Lieutenant Wells especially about this as soon as they can but right now... their priorities are just a bit differently.

Sheppard nods at Kemp to make him continue. "Lieutenant Wells also kept us updated on the progress and according to her expertise, the most pressing issue was energy. We also knew that Nera needed to prove herself to Radim and the rest of the Genii top cadre through her so it shouldn't have... it shouldn't have surprised us that only a few days later, we were pressed... we were pressed to gate away from our target region."

Right. This is probably where it's starting to get ugly, judging by the two times Kemp actually had to force himself to go on. Again, sympathy for the young officer is trying to force itself on him – and so is also the fleeting question what Laura would say to them harassing one of her fellow Lieutenants, Air Force or not – but this is neither the place nor the time for something like that. But it maybe _is_ the time and place to show the Lieutenant that he needs to go on now, no matter how hard it is. Again he exchanges a look with Sheppard and then says, "What happened next, Lieutenant?"

"The Genii apparently operate a network of undercover agents among the Wraith worshipers." That... is not what he'd wanted to hear. Actually, he hadn't wanted to hear _anything_ containing the word "Wraith" and it must have shown on both his and Sheppard's faces because Kemp hesitates before going on again.

Then he seems to have given himself a mental kick in the ass and says, "One of their cells reported the landing of a Hive with an operational ZPM onboard to Nera." Right. He's just _this_ close to put his head on the table in exasperation. _Please_, he thinks, please do _not_ tell us now that... "Nera force recruited us for a scheme to get that ZPM, sir."

For a moment, no one says a word. Until Sheppard feels compelled to break that silence by saying, "You said you gated away from the target area, right, Lieutenant?"

Kemp nods. "Yes, sir." There's a weird undertone in his voice. As if he knows he's in for an ugly ride now. Well.

"Did they arm you?" The menacing undertone is back in Sheppard's voice.

The Lieutenant seems to have heard it, too. Good for him, he thinks, but it still probably won't save him. "Not at first, sir."

"But they did later? For the heist?" Actually, he'd have called it a retrieval op and Sheppard usually would have, too but right now he's probably way too pissed off about Team Kemp letting themselves be roped into a goddamn _ZPM heist_. Usually, that's the kind of thing _Sheppard_'s team pulls, and, as Laura would say, it's not even cool when _they_ do it.

There's a nod from Kemp and he wonders if they shouldn't at least offer him a seat. It looks like this might take a little while longer and quite frankly, the Lieutenant starts to look more and more as if he might fall asleep on his feet. "Yes, sir, that's correct. We were armed shortly before the op took off."

Sheppard looks as if he might start the shouting right now and quite frankly he's probably thinking along the same lines but they can still question Kemp why he didn't just get the hell out of that with his team _after_ they got to know how it actually _happened_. So before Sheppard can even open his mouth, he says, "How exactly did that op go, Lieutenant? Who was in charge? Nera?"

Kemp shakes his head and that's not what he wanted to see. "Actually not, sir. She was the one recruiting us and arming us but... the operational responsibility lay with me." There's a break again and the only think keeping both Sheppard and him from shouting something down the line of "What hell were you _thinking_, Lieutenant?" is probably the fact that Kemp looks like the weight of that decision, however it was made, is lying heavily enough on him that his shoulders are visibly dropping. "When she explained to us what we were supposed to do, I figured that if we _had _to do that, we had to do it on _our_ terms and with me in charge."

Actually, that's not a bad decision and one both he and Sheppard would have made... but Kemp is neither he nor Sheppard. And he knows that. "We were provided with clothes marking us as Wraith worshipers. Posing as such, we infiltrated the Hive and managed to advance to where the Wraith were keeping the ZPM. Lieutenant Wells and Sergeant Faraday tried to remove the ZPM while Lieutenant Ferrier, Nera and I were guarding the entrance."

So far, it actually sounds like a cake walk. But it always is, until it isn't. He can see the same gloomy anticipation in Sheppard's face that he's feeling and he's almost ready to give Kemp a break when he continues, his professional façade cracking up again. "We encountered and neutralized minimal Wraith resistance before extracting from the compound with the ZPM." Wow. Actually... that's more than he'd have thought they'd have in them, despite Tom's – and Laura's – assessment of their skills. But there's _gotta_ be a catch somewhere in here or Keller wouldn't be patching up Ferrier right now. "The shi... things went downh... things went not according to the plan when we left the Hive, though." Right now... he strangely finds himself wishing that Kemp would fully lose composure only _once_ instead of still being just so goddamn _professional_.

But he still doesn't do them the favor. "After we left the Hive, our cover as Wraith worshipers was blown when we encountered a group of actual worshipers. We lost the ZPM when Nera fled after neutralizing one of the worshipers and Lieutenant Ferrier... was hit by a second worshiper. After that, we retreated under fire to the 'Gate where we managed to dial Atlantis." And the rest is history, as they like to say and Kemp mercifully keeps from remarking.

After Kemp is finished with his report, there's another moment of silence when Kemp simply stares at the wall opposite him, this time actually a few minutes long. Then, Sheppard speaks up again, his voice dangerously low, "So, Lieutenant... now that we know the actual facts... why, in the name of everything that is holy, didn't you make for the goddamn Gate in the _first_ place? Why, for the love of fucking _God_, did you think it was a fucking good idea to take part in that stupid, harebrained stunt that that Genii idiot recruited you for? What the goddamn fucking hell were you _thinking_ and why the hell didn't your team tell you to stick that entire idea where the fucking sun never fucking shines?"

Whoa. That was a tirade that would have certainly inspired some applause from the Marine population of Atlantis and probably a good part of the Air Force contingent, too. It was a classic with Sheppard and his voice raising a little more with every word until Sheppard was standing and shouting. There were some really good questions he'd actually like to have an answer for, too. Kemp, however, takes a moment to swallow whatever had been on the tip of his tongue – probably a retort that would have put Wells to shame – and then replies, "The decision to be part of this op was a team decision and at that time our best option to keep our cover with the Genii intact and build a foundation for further more intensive probing and intelligence gathering. Sir."

There it was. He can't believe it but he could really hear a bit of Wells in the slightly irritated undertone in Kemp's voice, most of all when he added that "sir". And Sheppard heard it, too. "That best option nearly got one of your men _killed_, for Heaven's sake!"

"I am well aware of that, sir," Kemp grinds out and for the first time since coming back to Atlantis, there's a spark of defiance in his eyes, this time not hidden at all by any layer of professionality or weariness. "But refusing to comply with Nera's orders could have gotten us our cover blown _and_ could have gotten us _all_ killed. We chose the lesser of two evils."

It's amazing how Kemp keeps using we and never actually uses I and he hopes it's not just a way of pushing his team in front of himself to distract from his mistakes. It's why he just _has_ to ask. "You... or _you_, Lieutenant?"

Again, the spark, now aimed directly at _him_. "My team and I, _sir_." Then, probably because his walls have been worn nearly thin, Kemp adds, "Just ask any of my team members, sir. They'll all answer the same way. Positively." Okay, so it's not actually the words that make this either a very brave or a very stupid act... it's more the tone of voice. Weary again, and positively annoyed... sounding like he's fed up with them and their questioning and just wants to slink off to spend the remainder of the day anywhere but here.

For a moment, Sheppard seems to look actually impressed but then he obviously remembered what they cited Kemp here for. "It still landed one of your men in the infirmary, Kemp. So _something_ about that decision was just plain _wrong_. Again, what were you _thinking_, all of you?"

"We were thinking, _sir_, that we didn't want to jeopardize the mission's objectives and most of all we didn't want to jeopardize our _cover_. Which is still intact, as I might add, sir." That... whoa. Did Kemp take lessons from Wells or something? Because that sure sounded like he's channeling her, _big_ time.

Actually, it was surprising enough – not only the tone, to be honest, but also the _fact_ – that it shuts up both him and Sheppard for a moment. Then, Sheppard says, sounding a little grudgingly, "That doesn't mean you and your team didn't make a lot of mistakes – potentially _fatal_ mistakes, _I_ might add – Lieutenant. I want you to compile a report of your mission, including a complete analysis of everything that went wrong in any way. And everything that went _right_. Am I clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Kemp says and Sheppard... just nods. Oh. Huh. Sheppard must have been more impressed by Kemp's steadfast refusal to let his superior's doubt in his ability to stick by his decisions get to him, even if they produced a casualty. Otherwise he wouldn't have given in so fast.

Then he expects Sheppard to dismiss the Lieutenant... but the Lieutenant isn't finished, obviously. "If I... I may add something, sir..."

"You may."

"I just would like to have it noted that whatever the outcome was, Lieutenant Wells, Lieutenant Ferrier and Sergeant Faraday all performed their duties diligently, bravely and with initiative. Lieutenant Wells' performance especially was outstanding. She distinguished herself by working countless hours without ever complaining or requesting to be pulled out. Without her, we wouldn't have come nearly as far as we did." Yes... yes, he noticed that Kemp mentioned her a couple of times before, and always in the most favorable way possible. He wonders what _exactly_ happened on that mission. "If this is going to reflect on anyone's service records... please don't involve my team. Anything that will be of official consequences should be of consequence only for me."

Now, that is bordering on being a martyr just a little too much for his taste... but he knows well enough how it feels to have a soldier in the infirmary that got injured under _your_ command, on _your_ watch... because of _your_ orders. The image of Laura on that stretcher after being nearly blown up because he was too stupid to notice a goddamn booby trap is still very much present in his mind so he throws Sheppard a short look to let him handle this and then he tells Kemp, "No official consequences, Lieutenant. We just want to know what _happened_ so it won't happen _again_."

The Lieutenant just nods, obviously swallowing. "Yes, sir. When are we supposed to report for the debriefing?"

Yeah, good question. "Your team and you will be on downtime for at least eight hours. Expect to be notified of the exact time no earlier than that." Ah, he knew Sheppard wouldn't be able to keep up the pissed off act much longer and that his softer side would show through at some point. Not that his tone was any softer than before but from the look of it, Kemp realized very well that he was just let off the hook. "After the debriefing you'll be on stand down until further notice." Read: as long as Ferrier isn't back on par and he hopes Kemp reads it like that as well, not like the reprimand it just sounded like. "As for you, Lieutenant... get a shower, grab something to eat and for _Heaven_'s sake, go get some _sleep_." He definitely _needs_ it, that much is clear.

However, Kemp doesn't agree, apparently. "Sir, I have a soldier in the infirmary..."

"Dr. Keller will notify you of any changes as per usual." Well, that was clear. And as expected, it draws a not really happy reaction from Kemp. "Now, shower, eat, sleep. And that's an _order_, Lieutenant." Yeah, doesn't he know _that_ one just as well? Which is why he's pretty sure Kemp might intend to go looking for one and two but there's no way in _hell_ he'll even _think_ about attempting three.

Even though he actually says, "Yes, sir."

Probably knowing full well Kemp didn't mean a _thing_ about that, Sheppard gives him another glare and throws him out with the words, "Dismissed, Lieutenant. Get out before we decide to put something in your file after all." That seems to have appealed to Kemp's sense of self-preservation since he practically hightails it out of the briefing room, hopefully to at least change out of those disgusting worshiper rags, if not to sleep off the exhaustion that had been practically radiating off him towards the end.

After he's gone, there's a moment of silence and then... Sheppard is snorting and he can't help snorting as well, even though he knows this isn't funny in the least. Thankfully, both Sheppard and he can't get past that short sound of amusement before he manages to ask wholly straight faced, "You wouldn't seriously put any of this in his service record, would you?"

It makes Sheppard role his eyes. What? He had to make sure, didn't he? After all, _he_'s the one having to actually_ put_ all that stuff in there. "Not in a million years, Major. How much of an asshole do you think I am?"

He shrugs and answers truthfully, "Not all, sir. You just sounded pretty... convincing is all."

That makes Sheppard make a face and growl a little. "Yeah, sometimes you gotta give those strapping young Lieutenants a shot across the bow to keep them in line. You honestly don't want to see whatever mayhem they could wreck if let loose, do you?"

Good God, _no_. "No, sir. Definitely not."

"Thought so," Sheppard simply says nodding and then adds, "Now, if you want to do Kemp a favor... see that he actually heeds my order."

Damn. How to tell Sheppard that he most certainly will _not _do that... oh, right. "I'll see what I can do, sir."

For a moment, Sheppard regards him with a mildly curious gaze, as if he's wondering if that was a yes or a no... and then he leaves it at, "I'm sure you will. And by the way... do give some thought to a possible commendation for Kemp and his team... especially the one for Lieutenant Wells."

Alright. That probably was his punishment in advance. He's pretty sure Sheppard knows he has _no_ intention _whatsoever_ to enforce his order on Kemp and apparently, it's not only the Lieutenants Sheppard likes to give a shot across the bow now and then. But it's not like he's _afraid_ of either Lieutenant or General Wells, and anyway he actually _likes_ writing commendations. He just nods. "Will do, sir."

Sheppard just makes a shooing gesture and after he left the briefing room he actually allows himself a roll of his eyes. Briefly, he wonders if he should actually seek out Lieutenant Kemp but then decides he really needs to get some other paper work done before Laura gets back from her mission in two days. It's potentially boring and she always gets a little pissed off when he has paper work to finish when he should be entertaining her after a babysitter mission. And he really _hates_ not being able to entertain... oh. Lieutenant Kemp. On his way straight to the infirmary. Of _course_.

And unfortunately, the Lieutenant spotted him before he could duck in another hallway. Now he _has_ to remind him of Sheppard's order. God.

Trying not to roll his eyes, he walks up to the Lieutenant who at least has the decency to blush. "Lieutenant Kemp... let me make this short. If you _have_ to violate Colonel Sheppard's order, at least take care that he doesn't catch you. And he will if you charge directly at the infirmary." Yeah, Lieutenant, not one of your most brilliant plans, was it? "Go and have that shower and grab something to eat on your way back from your quarters. Also, try the south entrance. Less easy to observe." And then... it registers what he just said, mostly because of the faint grin tugging at the corners of Kemp's mouth. "That was _not_ an invitation to openly disregard a direct order from a superior officer, Lieutenant."

"So," Kemp says, pausing probably just for the dramatic effect, "if Colonel Sheppard catches me, I tell him that it was _not_ Major Lorne who sent me through the south entrance?"

Goddammit! Sheppard was _right_ with his assessment of their strapping young Lieutenants. Shot across the bow. Yeah. He growls, "_Watch_ it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Kemp only replies, looking not really impressed, and then continues, "If you'd excuse me now, sir, I need to take a shower. I was _ordered _to get one, actually."

"Beat it, Kemp," is all he needs to reply to the Lieutenant's last almost transgression to make him beat a hasty retreat. It is kind of satisfying that he can still inspire that in his soldiers, even though he actually played good cop today, instead of the usual bad cop. Now he just hopes that Ferrier's surgery will go well because he just doesn't want to use another young promising soldier and most of all because he doesn't want _Kemp_ to lose a soldier under his command like that... or at all.

And yeah... he also hopes no one will tell Laura about this when she comes back in two days because he wouldn't put it past her to make him sleep on _his_ couch in _his_ quarters... oh good God, why didn't he think about_ that_ before? He's doomed. _Doomed_. Crap. But maybe... if he finds a way to convince Team Kemp to keep this quiet... oh, yeah, maybe _that_ could work...


	17. Have You Ever Wanted

**A/N:** So. Also Holiday Fic Request Meme, and Jesus fucking Christ, is Simmons a pain in the ass. I'm not sure if we'll ever _really_ get along with each other (surprisingly, that's pretty much analog to _Tom_ and McSmartypants). This one was pretty much a struggle for sure. But I hope the Sergeants taught him something. Anyway, this takes place maybe two weeks or something before _A Little Place Like Kokomo_, just to give you a piece of timeline you might remember. Have... err... fun.

* * *

**Have You Ever Wanted**

_"Tell me have you ever wanted  
Someone so much it hurts?  
Your lips keep trying to speak  
But you just can't find the words  
Well, I had this dream once  
I held it in my hands."_

_Lady Antebellum, "We Owned The Night"_

He's moping. He knows he is but that doesn't make it easier not to do it. He also knows it's stupid but _that_ actually makes it harder to stop. After all, he probably is the idiot everyone has pegged him to be.

It's just that his mom sent him one of her big CARE packages with about a ton of food and another ton of neighborhood gossip and there was something in it... that threw him, quite unexpectedly. It was just an aside, one of those "By the way, did you know..." things that was wedged between one scandal and the next only it wasn't an aside to him. It was his mom telling him that the first girl he ever was really in love with got married and didn't even think of inviting him.

Or, okay, it was his mom telling him his high school sweetheart got married and him wondering if he missed a memo and then realizing that she might just not have sent him an invite after all. He tried to tell himself that it doesn't matter because he wouldn't have gone anyway because he'd have been a galaxy away but dammit, it does matter. He's not quite sure as to the why but it does.

So he's lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He could have gone to the mess hall, sure but honestly? Insomnia seems to be epidemic around here and he's probably bound to meet at least two or three superior officers, _most_ probably his boss if he isn't doing unlawful things to one of his subord… oh _God_. Groaning he puts a hand over his eyes.

No more thinking about superior officers' private life. Back to his own. Lying around in his quarters. Because he's not in the mood for the mess hall and there's a storm happening outside so no sitting around the pier and putting F-22 to work – last time he tried that she didn't talk to him for three days – for him.

Kassandra is on night watch duty and usually, that's the best time of day to sneak around the PDA regulations but he just has this feeling that she'd see right through it all and if he'd come to her to mope about his long gone first girlfriend, he'd probably be single again in a matter of seconds. And he's currently not in the mood for an off again phase.

However, that doesn't solve his problem. It would be good, to be sure, if he actually knew what the problem actually _is_. He's not in love with Libby anymore, he doesn't have any unfinished business with her, he's not even interested in whom she actually married. Yet ever since he got the news, he'd been in a foul mood and somehow it also fouled up his shooting results today and… and someone just rang his door bell.

Just ignore it, a tiny voice whispers. Go and answer it, you lazy asshat, shouts another one. It sounds awfully much like his drill instructor during the Beast. Or maybe Major Moore when he's really pissed off. He never made the mistake of not listening to his drill instructor. Or Major Moore, for that matter.

So resisting a groan, he gets up and drags himself over to his door. He's not sure _who_ he expected but it sure as hell weren't… _the Sergeants_. Somewhere in his mind, he just heard a stereotypical "dun, dun, dun" sound and he attributes it to having been in the vicinity of his lovely girlfriend too long. He doesn't quite know what to attribute his momentary speechlessness to.

"Evening, sir," Meyers says a tad too cheerfully for his mood. Which means that the Sergeants don't seem to mind his speechlessness, though. When have they ever?

He frowns. "Evening, Sergeant Meyers. Sergeant McPherson." McPherson just nods at him. Why exactly is he along for the ride if he never says anything, anyway? "How may I… help you?"

"Oh, not at all, sir." Briefly, he wonders if Meyers is like that to _all_ superior officers and if he will be the first one who'll strangle the Sergeant for that.

"Then what… are you doing here?" Probably thinking to teach the green Lieutenant another lesson in some weird Atlantis brotherhood thing he did wrong. He seems to be doing that constantly.

"Well," Meyers drawls just this side of insolent, "we thought we'd come here to help _you_, sir."

What… who the hell do think they are? Come here to help _him_? "I'm sure that's a very honorable offer but I certainly don't see why I would need from…"

"We think you do, sir." McPherson. That must have been the second or third time in total that he said a sentence longer than three words. It's also the first time... what is he holding in his hand there? Is that... oh good God, it's the results from the shooting range today. And those look even worse than what the computer told them he shot. How the... "We have our ways, sir. Suffice to say, it wasn't your best day on the range."

The... _insolence_! And from McPherson of all people! How dare... Well. It really wasn't his best day. Actually, it was his worst day until now. To be honest, he'd been wondering if the boss hadn't seen it or if there was some big blow-up waiting for him tomorrow. At least now he knows why the boss didn't do anything else than raising his eyebrow and making a none too satisfied sound when he looked up his Lieutenant's shooting scores. The Sergeants faked the score. He doesn't know whether to grin or to be majorly pissed off.

He opts for the middle ground. "So... what exactly do you propose, Sergeants?"

"We propose," Meyers says and holds up the bag he's holding in his hand, "that you get to know your Sergeants a little better and learn to appreciate them even more."

That doesn't make any sense. He's pretty sure he knows them well enough, having read their entire personnel records and everything. He's a good XO. He does his homework. Isn't that enough? "Don't get me wrong, Sergeant... but why would I want to do that now?"

Meyers shrugs and McPherson looks a little... pissed off? Did he just violate some secret Marine code that you don't refuse an offer to get drunk - because he's pretty sure that's alcohol in that bag - with your Sergeants if they feel like it? Meyers enlightens him. "Because the boss has enough on his back to have to take care of one moping Lieutenant. Sir."

Okay, that's enough. Until now he bore it all without ever making a fuss. Alright, almost. He bore it because everyone kept telling him that Sergeants are non-expendable, unlike green Lieutenants and that the Marines are their life insurance against everything bad in Pegasus and because you just don't piss off your Sergeants, most off all those of the Marine variety. He's very tired of giving them carte blanche for every insult und stab and tease, though. That was just the straw that broke the camel's back. "You forget yourself, Sergeant. There will not only be a formal reprimand, there will also be..."

"Beer. First of all there will be beer. 'Scuse me, sir..." What the fucking. _Hell_? Did Meyers really just push past him, into his quarters? Did McPherson really follow, hot on his heels? What the. What. _What_?

He doesn't trust himself to speak at first because he's pretty sure the only thing coming out would be indignant sputter. He's pretty sure they taught them how to handle situations like these with more dignity at the Academy, but for the life of him he can't remember those lessons. Any of them.

That proves to be a fatal mistake because as the Sergeants got settled in on his bed, McPherson jumps right into the opening created by one speechless Lieutenant, "Way I see it, sir, you got two options. One is getting kicked your ass by the boss when he sees your shooting score. Two is getting harassed by two Sergeants who know very well you can shoot better than that. What's it gonna be, sir?"

He's about to tell them that they would get their asses kicked by the boss but... he knows it would be futile. The boss never kicks the Sergeants' asses. When faced with their shenanigans, Major Lorne just rolls his eyes and has some mildly reprimanding or sarcastic remark for them. Which always serves to shut them up. There has to be _something_ to Lorne's approach. He tries to rein in his temper. "Sergeant... why did you fake my shooting score?"

They look at each other and it's Meyers' turn again. "Like I said, the boss has enough on his back already. We figured if he saw your score, he'd feel compelled to find out the reason behind it. And you know how he can get." Slowly he nods and tries to ignore what would usually be almost akin to badmouthing a superior officer. Yeah, he does know how Major Lorne can get when he thinks there's something wrong with one of his soldiers. Like a dog with a bone.

"So you decided you'd take the bothersome task of worming it out of that green Lieutenant yourself?" They shrug. Of course. If he'd expected contriteness, he should have gone looking elsewhere. "Well then, in that case... you're off the hook. There _is_ nothing to worm out of this green Lieutenant."

"See, we knew you'd react like that," Meyers pontificates and pulls out what looks like a can of beer. "Which is why we brought this. Mac..."

McPherson takes the generously offered can and pops the lid, nodding at Meyers. "Will."

They touch cans and Meyers holds out another can. At him. "Sir?"

He grinds his teeth. Most certainly _not_. "No, thank you, Sergeant." Because he sure as hell ain't getting drunk with the Sergeants so they can worm out his darkest, deepest secrets. Not that there _are_ any of those, but...

"Just as well. Then tell us sober. We won't mind." Another one like that, and he'll boot them out, to hell with them being Marines.

And he's gonna tell them so. "Okay, this is it. Listen, the both of you. I do not have to deal with this kind of crap from you or anyone else for that matter. If Major Lorne thinks he needs to reprimand me for my shooting scores then by God let him do it. It's his job and you don't have any right to interfere with it. Just because you're NCOs it doesn't give you the right to go behind an officer's back to temper with his subordinate's scores. You just do not do that. I could actually bring you up on charges. But I'll go with strongly suggesting you leave my quarters. Right. Fucking. Now."

There's a moment of silence but... the Sergeants don't move a finger. Then... they look at each other and Meyers says strangely quietly, "You want a shot or want me to do it?" McPherson just makes a "No, no, you go ahead" gesture towards Meyers and the Sergeant turns back to him. When he speaks up again, there's nothing of his usual irreverence in his tone. "Are you finished, sir?" Something in that tone... makes him simply nod and Meyers continues, "I guess you're right with what you're saying. But you missed one important fact." Oh really? What's that supposed to be? "We're not just Sergeants and officers. We're not just Airmen and Marines. We're a _team_, sir. A team looks out for each other. In a team, we have each others' backs."

Damn. That... makes... a fucking load of sense. Or would make a fucking load of sense if he weren't still miffed about the way they showed up at his quarters. "And what does being a team have to do with you doing Major Lorne's job for him?"

He's pretty sure they just rolled their eyes. He's even pretty sure they almost sighed in exasperation. McPherson now. "Exactly what Will here just told you. Major's strung out all over Atlantis, rumor has it he's engaged to the Cap and doesn't get to spend more than a couple minutes with her a day, he's kicking our asses in training, doing Sheppard's paper work... we need to cut him some slack. So we're looking for you so that he hasn't to do it."

What if I don't need anyone looking out for me, he wants to ask but the truth is... he's seen other teams. He's seen Team Kemp and Major Moore's team and of course Sheppard's team and they're always hanging around together, never far from each other, sleeping in the infirmary chairs if one of their own got banged up... He runs a hand through his hair. "It's just that... it's probably nothing. It's ridiculous."

See, that wasn't so hard, the Sergeants' faces seem to say. "Can't be nothing if it pulls down your scores like that, sir," is what Meyers tells him matter-of-factly. McPherson nods and he realizes he's not getting out of this.

So he pulls out his desk chair and plunges down. He starts telling them about Libby and how she was the first girl he was ever in love with and the first girl he wanted to marry and how it just didn't work out with him in Colorado and her still in Washington State and how they called it quits in his final year, after having tried so hard for three years. He tells them about his mother's aside and how it pisses him off that something in that got him thinking and he doesn't even really know what _exactly_ he's thinking of.

What surprises him most is how... humbled he feels during his diatribe. He'd expected the Sergeants to snort and make their usual quips and snarky remarks but they just listen and nod and sometimes dig a little deeper if they need clarification. Obviously, he grossly underestimated them and he feels sorry for that. Also embarrassed about it. Actually, he feels like the biggest idiot ever to have wandered on Earth. New Lantea. Whatever.

Thankfully, the Sergeants don't remark on it, or not yet, anyway. He's kind of thankful for the reprieve when Meyers finally says, "So... basically you're worried life is going on without you back on Earth?"

Uh... is he? He wasn't aware of that. Until now, anyway. Confused, he runs a hand through his hair and frowns. But... well. Maybe that's really it. Maybe he really is worried about that. He frowns again. "Why do I get a feeling that this makes me an idiot?"

"Not an idiot, sir. Not at all." Aw, he's even a little touched the McPherson would... "Only a routine-blinded, sir." Uh... what?

"What Mac here means, sir," – is he really that easy to see through? – "is that you're still fixed on only news from home being news. You think life is only going on at home, not here."

He raises his eyebrows. "Isn't it?"

The Sergeants shrug and it's McPherson again. "What do _you_ think, sir?"

Well. What does he think? He thinks that… he thinks that he's got a girlfriend since a few weeks ago and didn't even tell anyone back home yet. He thinks that this is the weirdest posting ever and he didn't even tell any of his Academy buddies about it yet. Actually… he didn't even tell any of the people he _didn't_ like at the Academy. He also thinks that he has the weirdest _CO_ of all times. He can't help grinning a little because well, he just realized that this was almost akin to paying Major Lorne a compliment.

"So?" Meyers asks needlessly but probably couldn't help needling that green Lieutenant again.

"So… how about you toss me one of those beer cans, Sergeant?" The Sergeants break out into a mutual grin and Meyers chucks him a can.

"That's the spirit, sir." Somehow… he feels oddly proud of hearing Meyers tell him that and see an approving nod from McPherson. Well. Obviously, he made the right decision just for once. One little can of beer sure as hell won't hurt. Really, what harm could it do? It's an acceptable sacrifice if it gets him into the good graces of the Sergeants because apparently, he needs them to help him put a few things in perspective. He can still make it clear to them that he'd prefer it not to have his shooting scores or _any_ other scores being tampered with tomorrow.

So he opens the can and relaxes back in his chair and it's amazing how easy it suddenly is to think of something else than Libby Carpenter's wedding. His girlfriend, for example. Or what he could do to keep some stuff off his boss's back, like the Sergeants are doing. At least, that would be better than moping and he'd really do _anything_ to stop himself from doing that. And yeah, tomorrow, he'll reply to his mother's letter with a couple news of his own. Yeah. Good plan.


	18. And Selfishness Its Shadow Casts

**A/N:** Holiday Fic Request Meme. I kind of squeed when **mac** requested something for Anna Williamson, Evan Lorne's sister in my _Protect and Survive_ 'verse but it kind of surprised me how far back into the past I went for this. It takes place in early 1998 and only mentions Evan in passing. Otherwise it really focuses on Anna and how it was for her as a young Air Force wife (she and Charlie got married in early 1995, if my calculations are worth anything, and I'm glad **leah** said it's okay for Anna to be like this) with her husband away on deployment for the first time so it's not _really_ Stargate (not yet, anyway ;)) but I still like it very much. I just won't post it anywhere else for the time being until I'm caught up with posting _Protect and Survive_ here. Everyone who knows the 'verse (and hasn't read it before posting...): have fun!

* * *

**And Selfishness Its Shadow Casts**

"_A little kingdom I possess  
where thoughts and feelings dwell,  
And very hard I find the task  
of governing it well;  
For passion tempts and troubles me,  
A wayward will misleads,  
And selfishness its shadow casts  
On all my words and deeds."_

_Louisa May Alcott, "My Kingdom"_

Fuck Denver, she thinks as she tries to cross the campus of the University of Denver in a raging January blizzard to get to her car and back to Buckley Air Force Base. Fuck Denver and base housing and graduate school and basically everything. Fuck _SFOR_, most of all. Without SFOR Charlie would be home with her and volunteer to pick her up from the Josef Korbel School of International Studies and drive the damn car through the damn snow storm.

But her husband First Lieutenant Charles Williamson is in Bosnia, keeping the peace with NATO and probably – _hopefully_ – freezing his ass off just like her. That's what he deserves for being so eager to get deployed to a country somewhere in Europe where they probably still eat dogs or something when he could have stayed with her in a civilized country. Or at least have fixed the leaking roof and the cold nonresistant plumbing. Really, who builds houses like that in an area where it seems to snow half the year and…

Okay, no, this is ridiculous. This stupid ranting won't get her anywhere and if she'd ever muttered it aloud to anyone, she'd seriously embarrass herself. She knew what she was getting into when she married Charlie almost three years ago and that included postings to bases that actually have seasons and winters that get way colder than 50 degrees. She knew she'd be on her own for probably half their marriage. Also, she knew how to fix roofs and the plumbing herself even before she got married to Charlie. So she doesn't have any reason to be pissed like this.

Except that her boots are soaked through and she's shivering even in a coat that makes her look like the Michelin guy and two sweaters and _long underwear_, for Heaven's sake. And her fellow students that are from the area keep telling her that this is _normal_ here and that this is _not_ a blizzard but damn there's snow coming down from the sky like there's no tomorrow and there's wind that makes her feel like she's slamming into a wall constantly. If _that_ isn't a blizzard what the fucking hell _is_?

She sighs and tries to retreat deeper into the heavy scarf draped around her face and neck. She misses California and Berkeley and the sea. She misses not having to spend fifteen minutes to bundle up before leaving the house for a dash to the PX. She misses snow free roads and sidewalks that don't bear the danger of slipping and seriously injuring yourself every couple of feet. But most of all, _most of all_, she misses the man who made all of that so easy to bear until now.

When they'd moved here in 1996, she'd borne with every nuisance and every difficulty that meant living on an Air Force base as the wife of a young officer and attendant of grad school. She'd contributed her share to the military spousal charity and duty they expected of her and taken care never to disappoint or embarrass her airman and diminish his chance at success. She'd even gone so far as to neglect her own chance at success once or twice when attendance to one or the other meeting had coincided with her duties as a grad school student.

And all of that had been weirdly easy because he'd always been there to encourage her and appreciate her efforts and listen to her rants about yet another boring meeting with military wives that didn't seem to have any other purpose in life than their husbands and their career. He's not here now and she's supposed to go to yet another one of those meetings tonight when all she'd rather do is hole up in their house, leaky roof and all, and bury herself in her research books for her latest grad school project.

So she isn't really enthusiastic when she reaches her car. The only good thing about that is that she's at least out of the wind. It's still freezing cold in here but that'll hopefully change when she starts… wait. Why didn't anything happen when she just turned her key? Let's try this again, she thinks and then hears the engine sputter and is about to grin triumphantly… when it dies again. Crap. Crapcrapcrap. One more try, she thinks, and even goes as far as praying, one more try and please don't… but there's not even a sound emanating from the engine this time.

Cursing non-stop under her breath – Evan might still think it was Berkeley that taught her how to curse up a shit storm but she knows it were Charlie and Tom and even Evan himself who did that during their Academy years – she rummages around for a flashlight in the glove compartment and then leaves the car again when she found it.

Fumbling clumsily with her thick winter gloves, she pries the hood open and shines the flash light on the engine to try to determine what the hell is wrong with this scrap heap of a car _now_ but after ten minutes spent aimlessly poking and prodding she's ready to give up. She's just a damn social sciences major, not an engineer and there's only so much even a self-sufficient young woman like her can learn about car engines before her husband departs for stupid Bosnia. She just should have taken her brother up on his offer to teach her a little more than just the basics before _he_ departs for Bosnia.

That won't get her very far now, though. Now she needs… "Need a hand with that?" What?

She turns around and squints into the dark to see another bundled up figure approaching her. The only features visible are the person's eyes and from the voice she just heard, she determines it must be a woman. That doesn't mean she's going to be sociable, though. "No, thanks. I've got it all under control."

It's a lie, of course. But maybe the scarf muffled her voice enough not to betray that. "Really? Checked the battery yet?"

No, she didn't. Because she's stupid like that. Like hell she's gonna tell the other woman that, though. She frowns. "None of your business, is it?"

She's pretty sure she just heard the woman snort and unfortunately her rebuff didn't stop the other one from walking up to her and saying, "Hey, I think I know you." She's pretty sure she doesn't. "You're… hey, you're the wife of my husband's boss!"

Most certainly _not_, she wants to answer but now that the woman pulled down her scarf a bit and she could hear her voice better over the howling of the wind, she starts to look familiar. Somehow. "Do I know you?"

Now the other one _did_ snort. "Sure you do. Or you would, if you'd actually talk to us at the meetings. But okay, I get that you always look like you'd rather be somewhere else. Usually, I feel the same way."

"What?" Like always, she hears her mother reminding her to say "Pardon?" instead of "What?" but ignores her, like always. The situation certainly warrants blunt speech.

"Oh, sorry. Lena Krystowksy, nice to meet you." The other woman – Ms. Krystowsky – sticks out her hand and grins at her. The name doesn't ring any bell at all so she just stares shortly at the hand and keeps hers to herself. "Wife of… Tech Sergeant Mike Krystowsky?"

Who… oh, wait. Mike K… Mike K… oh yeah, that sounds vaguely familiar. Charlie did talk about someone with a Polish sounding name a couple a times… she blinks and looks at the woman in front of her again. There's a lock of dark hair peeking out from under her woolen cap and she thinks she remembers a young woman in the back of the audience during a couple of meetings smirking and rolling her eyes. And shaking that same woman's hand at a base picnic during the summer before hurrying back to her computer and that damn publication after the obligatory thirty minutes of meet and greet.

Slowly, she reaches out with her hand and grips Mrs. Krystowsky's one. "Anna Williamson… nice to meet you."

"I bet it is. Let me have a look at your car?" She shrugs and gestures at the open hood.

"Sure. Knock yourself out." Mrs. Krystwosky – Lena? – dives into the engine bay with uncanny enthusiasm and rummages around while directing the flashlight to wherever she needs it.

After a couple of minutes, she emerges again and says, "Alright, I guess your battery's pretty much fucked. We could try to jump start it but my car is on the other side of the parking lot. Hey… are you going to that meeting tonight?"

She'd like to say no but she'd get Charlie in trouble if she wouldn't go to the third meeting in a row. She sighs. "Yeah, I am. Or… I was."

"Nuh-uh, you're not getting out of this, honey. If _I_ have to go there, you have to, as well." No one calls her "honey" and most of all not some other Air Force wife. Or at least that's her first impulse to say.

And the second is, "Do not call me a coward. I _can't_ go there because I don't have a car and obviously _you_ are not willing to…"

"Hey, hey, don't get your panties in a twist, Anna," Lena – she figures if the other one calls her by her first name, she's at liberty to do the same – says and raises her hands defensively. "I was going to suggest we share a ride back to base. My car's not the best one in the stable, either but… I guess it'll get us where we want to go. Or, okay, _don't_ want to go." With that, she jerks her head into the general direction of the other end of the parking lot. "Come on. Don't want to be late, do we?"

She couldn't care less about being late or not but she cares about Charlie. Sighing, she closes the hood of her car with a thud and locks her car. Against what thieves, she wonders because seriously, what had Charlie and she been thinking when they purchased that pile of junk? "Alright, fine. But just for the record, I think it's a waste of time."

"Amen to that, sister. I could very well use that time to study." Oh. Oh right. Lena is… a student. She's the wife of one of Charlie's subordinates and a student at the University of Denver. Idiot, she scolds herself. Of course she would. Why else would she hang around the campus? Just because her husband is a Sergeant, it doesn't mean she doesn't have the brains for a university degree.

So much for a liberal education in a liberal city, she thinks but instead of rolling her eyes at herself, she simply asks, "What exactly is that? Mechanical engineering?" while they're tromping through the steadily increasing snow.

There's another snort from Lena." Heavens, no. Tourism Studies, junior year. That car thing… I've probably just been doing this Air Force wife thing longer than you is all." Then she stops in front of a car that doesn't look much better than her own car, even in the dark. "Alright, get in before you freeze your little officer's wife ass off."

What, and now she's being insulted because her husband is a Lieutenant? Why ever did she… "Don't look at me like that. I'm from Texas. Refined language isn't our specialty. Now hop in, I'm sure we're gonna have a lot of fun gossiping about Colonel Merrywig's wife and Major Langborn's husband."

That… actually that sounds like fun. Because, you know, she's been having her suspicions for a while now and… and she gets into the passenger seat, somehow not minding her soaked boots and the Denver cold so much anymore.

She smiles. Next time she talks to Charlie she's going to ask him a little about Tech Sergeant Mike Krystowsky and how his team is doing over there and she'll probably even attempt to knit a pair of gloves for him because she's seen Lena doing that during the meetings and it seemed to have made it easier to bear them for her.

Maybe Lena can teach her how to. Maybe Lena is worth getting to know a little better. She could certainly use a friend who can fix cars and curse like a sailor and knows how it is to miss her husband while trying to juggle about a thousand things at the same time. She decides to start making friends. No better time to start than right fucking now.


	19. Near the Village, the Quiet Village

Holiday Fic Request Meme. Meh. This story? The reason why I usually don't write crack!fic. It's not that I think it's bad, it's just that usually, that kind of fic would be multi-chapter. But I didn't have multi-chapter so I tried mission fic in a one-shot. I'm really not sure if that concept worked for me *sighs Also... **mac** said I get bonus points if I can get every character mentioned in the prompt. That might explain a few things. BTW, takes place two months after _A Little Place Like Kokomo_, so a month or s about Evan and Laura's wedding (the one in Atlantis, that is).

PS.: Thanks to **mac**, I want to write the story of "the time [Lorne] and Sheppard were in Alien Jail and the entire life sciences department was struck by some device that only allowed them to speak in pig latin" (quote mac). Please everyone remind me that I don't write crack!fic, thank you.

* * *

**Near the Village, the Quiet Village**

_"Near the village, the peaceful village,  
The lion sleeps tonight  
Near the village, the quiet village,  
The lion sleeps tonight."  
_

_"The Lion Sleeps Tonight"_

Okay. Somehow... this didn't go as planned. Twice, actually, because his team wasn't the only one that got imprisoned in crude but effective bamboo like hut prisons, in solitary confinement. It's a bit embarrassing that the usual rescue party for Sheppard's team got themselves caught, too. Mostly because _theoretically_, it would be very easy to break out of this. He wouldn't even need to open the door. A simple hit with his shoulder against the walls would suffice. _Theoretically_.

In practice, there are about a hundred blood thirsty natives adorned with fierce masks and very pointy spears out there just waiting for their prisoners – _food_, he's been wondering since he woke up from the surprisingly potent narcotic they must have painted their arrow tips with - to try a breakout. He can see their big fire flickering through the small gaps between the bars and some of them dancing some annoyingly stereotypical war or sacrificial or whatever dance so they'd probably spear him the moment they hear the bars crack. And most of all, in practice, his hands are bound behind his back and they forced him into a kneeling position with, he still can't believe it, a yoke. This really is the height of embarrassment.

Until now he also couldn't come up with just any escape plan and he couldn't even find out which huts exactly hold his and Sheppard's teams. He doesn't even know which condition his team is in and if all of his team are here, actually. They were ambushed by the natives only a mile away from the 'Gate and it all went over so fast that he doesn't even remember feeling the arrow piercing his skin. That it _was_an arrow... well, he deducted that from the fact that he never saw it coming and that someone put a bandage around his arm. Which hurts like a bitch.

So his current situation doesn't look too good for him. It's also his first off-world mission since Obanashi fully cleared him after that little incident with the Goa'uld during Laura's and his visit to his parents two months ago so he'd wanted to make sure it went smoothly to demonstrate to everyone that one little Goa'uld could to do nothing to diminish Evan Lorne's qualities as a soldier. So much for _that_, he thinks and snorts and then… is alarmed by a sudden change to the rather monotonous racket going on outside.

Until now there were a lot of drums banging and spears clanging. That just… changed. And gave way to excited chatter. Damn, if he could just… okay, that _hurt_but at least he can see more than just the flickering of the fire now. That… apparently… a new party arrived. Oh great, he thinks, more guests for the feast and… "I am the great and powerful Oz, fear me!"

What. The. Fucking. Hell. He did not just hear Thomas Moore's voice booming all across the village, quoting from the _Wizard of Oz_. He just did _not_. Maybe… maybe there wasn't just narcotics on the tip of that arrow but also some hallucinogen? Yeah, that must be it. There's no way in hell Woolsey decided to send _Moore's_team as the second rescue party. That just… "You will leave my subjects be or I shall vanquish you."

This is not happening. Not at all. Not in his world, not in any other world. "Release my subjects or my great and mighty… no, Dee, I don't think that's what Maureen meant… anyway. Where was I? Oh, right. Release my subjects or my great and mighty magic will smite you and sweep you off the Earth!"

A groan that has nothing to do with the pain in his arm or the yoke on his shoulders escapes him. If he weren't bound like this, he'd head desk. Very, very hard. Most of all because for some reason… it became awfully quiet outside now. And did they really… the natives didn't just kneel down, did they? "I will now enter your dwelling with my faithful servants and beware they that will touch me!"

Whatever they rigged up as a plan in Atlantis, it better work. Also, he'd like to know how the hell Woolsey expects them to write a report about _this_. Actually, he already started wondering how to file this. Does it still fit into the Aliens Made Us Do It or rather Things No One Is Ever To Speak Of This Again? Mh. Maybe he should make the second one a subfolder of the first one… Oh God.

From what he can see through the bars, a party of four just entered the village but none of them look like Moore's team. There are… masks and… costumes and… whoever came up with the plan was either stoned or certifiable.

Or, okay, a really good ethnologist. Because the locals are still kneeling and… chanting? And one of them is bowing in front of the guy with the biggest mask – Moore, no doubt about it – and talking in… broken English? Since when do their captors speak English? The briefing didn't say anything about that but that's probably just because no one made it to actually speaking to the locals because they're even more trigger happy than the average Atlantis USAF Lieutenant.

Okay, still talking… no, moving again. One of the locals – probably the chieftain – is leading Moore's team over to… damn, he can't get to see where to they're led. Then, for a while everything happens out of his sight. Then… his door is yanked open and he gets to see Moore in his masked glory up close and personal. He wonders who got tasked with paper mâchéing _this_. It's… interesting.

And it's a _relief_ when he's untied and the yoke is taken from his shoulders. God, that feels _good_, he thinks when he can finally get up from his knees and roll and stretch his shoulders. Then Moore just… waves his hand and immediately, the natives rush out of the hut, only leaving him and… oh, look, it's Team Sheppard _and_ his own Sergeants. So where's Lieutenant… "Okay, guys, I'll just make it short and explain the rest at the debriefing. _You_ are my subjects. _I_am your king. Got it?" Well, that was less surprising than he thought it would be.

What _is_surprising, though, is that Sheppard just nods and not even Rodney challenges Moore's order. So he feels compelled to mutter, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

The answer comes on the spot. "Immensely."

Of course. That was to be expected. And there's no reason to grin like that for Ronon and Sheppard. He glares at Moore's masked face. "I hate you."

In reply, Moore claps his back just a little too forcefully for his still hurting shoulders and says heartily and with an audible grin, "Feeling's mutual." One day… he _will_catch Moore unawares and not half as slick as he usually is. It'll be his pleasure. "Anyway, sit rep." He turns to Sheppard. "Couldn't get the locals to give you back your weapons but I could get us safe passage back to the 'Gate. I could convince him that I'm from a faraway kingdom and hold the power of magic and you accidentally trespassed into their territory. Don't ask, I'm just doing what I was ordered to, sir."

Sheppard nods. "Did you bring your medic?" Moore nods. "Alright. Did the locals give you some time before departure?" Another nod. "Good. Have Morsberg do a quick check on everyone and then let's get the hell out of here. Any questions?" Everyone including himself shakes their heads and Moore orders his medic to give everyone a quick once over.

After Morsberg has taken care of everyone with a standard check and a shot of preemptive inflammation blocker, Moore prepares to get back into his act and then leads them out of the village like a flock of misguided sheep. Or at least that's what they're trying to look like. Rodney and Ronon aren't particularly good at it so he's glad when they finally get back into the forest surrounding the village.

A couple of steps into the forest, Moore and the rest of his team finally take off their masks and… oh. Huh. He raises his eyebrows. Briefly checking if Sheppard is going to say anything and finding he looks more occupied with taking point again, he turns back to Moore. "Where's your scientist?"

Moore shrugs and rolls his eyes, taking up walking when Sheppard orders the teams to get moving again. "Einstein? Down for the count. Intergalactic space flu or something. But look who I brought instead."

With that he jerks his thumb back towards a rather disheveled looking Lieutenant McSmarty… Simmons. "Hey, boss... uh, nice to see you, sir." If he didn't know better, he'd say the Lieutenant is…

"He alerted us to the whole thing. Good job, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." Good God, Simmons _is_blushing at the compliment Tom just paid him. Even in the half dark of the moonlit forest he can see it. Oh jeez.

Let's find a different topic, he thinks and opts for, "Whose idea was this?"

"Maureen's." Okay. He should probably _never_mention that "either stoned or certifiable" thing. He's not keen on getting thrashed by Moore more than necessary. "She said it's a perfect mission for me. I get to be king and if I do my job right, not a shot is going to be fired. How did I do?"

He resists rolling his eyes at Moore's mock enthusiastic tone. "Much too well. And where _is_Captain Reece?" Because she obviously helped developing the plan and because she's a linguist and would have been an integral part. Granted, she doesn't go much on off-world missions anymore, seeing as they still couldn't get her a team of her own but…

"Did I mention this space flu thing? Entire science division is out." Oh good God. He and Sheppard go missing together just for _once_and the entire science division contracts some outer space bug? Jeez…

Suddenly, _Rodney_seems very interested, too. Interested enough that he stops in the middle of the path to turn around and utter indignantly in Moore's direction, "But your Captain isn't..."

"It's better if I ignore him, right?" Yeah, better for _Rodney_, he wants to say but thankfully Teyla is nice enough to realize the peril Rodney is in faster than the doc did and just gently drags him with her. Damn, he'd have loved to see _that_showdown.

Oh well. There's something else that bugs him, anyway. He turns to Moore again, a frown on his face. "You realize that you just behaved like a colonist who's exploiting a native peoples' weakness created by deep spiritualism, right?"

Moore is silent for a moment. In the end he says, "Yes, I do. And did it get your hands uncuffed or not?" Right. Of _course_he'd say something like that.

He glares at Moore. "Just shut up."

The only thing Moore does is giving him a smart, "Yessir," and since they just reached the 'Gate he decides he'll leave it at that for now. They'll have to talk about it later – most of all because he's pretty sure neither Reece nor Woolsey told Moore to go _that_heavy on the whole Wizard of Oz thing – but right now he's just glad this is over.

From the look of it, Sheppard is too when he joins them after telling Rodney to dial the 'Gate. Yeah, well, that thing about being ambushed by natives with spears and arrows and the whole not being able to break out of the huts thing? That wasn't embarrassing. Not when compared to the fact that Thomas Moore in the disguise worthy of the Wizard of Oz came riding into the village and freed them nearly singlehandedly by basically being an annoying and most of all very inflated version of his usual self. He clears his throat but doesn't look at Sheppard, just at the 'Gate establishing the event horizon. "Let's not ever do this again, John."

As the members of the various teams involved start to leave the planet one by one, Sheppard simply says. "No, let's absolutely not, Evan."

He's kind of glad Sheppard agrees so unanimously. Most of all because he just saw Moore walk by with another bright grin, telling them he'll _never_let them live this one down. He feels compelled to add, "Let's block this gate address as soon as we get back."

Now he does look at Sheppard and is relieved when he hears him say with a surprising amount of conviction, "Let's _absolutely_ do _that_."

Well, then… off to Atlantis back to a very weird debriefing, a sniffling science division and the bed he shares with Laura. He could very much go without the former two but he figures it'll just make the last one even more pleasant. Even if _Laura_ will never let him live this down, either. But that'll be worth it. Just another day in outer space and he's going home now. That's probably the best thing about the day. He grins and enters the 'Gate. Home. No better place to be

Okay. Somehow... this didn't go as planned. Twice, actually, because his team wasn't the only one that got imprisoned in crude but effective bamboo like hut prisons, in solitary confinement. It's a bit embarrassing that the usual rescue party for Sheppard's team got themselves caught, too. Mostly because _theoretically_, it would be very easy to break out of this. He wouldn't even need to open the door. A simple hit with his shoulder against the walls would suffice. _Theoretically_.

In practice, there are about a hundred blood thirsty natives adorned with fierce masks and very pointy spears out there just waiting for their prisoners – _food_, he's been wondering since he woke up from the surprisingly potent narcotic they must have painted their arrow tips with - to try a breakout. He can see their big fire flickering through the small gaps between the bars and some of them dancing some annoyingly stereotypical war or sacrificial or whatever dance so they'd probably spear him the moment they hear the bars crack. And most of all, in practice, his hands are bound behind his back and they forced him into a kneeling position with, he still can't believe it, a yoke. This really is the height of embarrassment.

Until now he also couldn't come up with just any escape plan and he couldn't even find out which huts exactly hold his and Sheppard's teams. He doesn't even know which condition his team is in and if all of his team are here, actually. They were ambushed by the natives only a mile away from the 'Gate and it all went over so fast that he doesn't even remember feeling the arrow piercing his skin. That it _was_an arrow... well, he deducted that from the fact that he never saw it coming and that someone put a bandage around his arm. Which hurts like a bitch.

So his current situation doesn't look too good for him. It's also his first off-world mission since Obanashi fully cleared him after that little incident with the Goa'uld during Laura's and his visit to his parents two months ago so he'd wanted to make sure it went smoothly to demonstrate to everyone that one little Goa'uld could to do nothing to diminish Evan Lorne's qualities as a soldier. So much for _that_, he thinks and snorts and then… is alarmed by a sudden change to the rather monotonous racket going on outside.

Until now there were a lot of drums banging and spears clanging. That just… changed. And gave way to excited chatter. Damn, if he could just… okay, that _hurt_but at least he can see more than just the flickering of the fire now. That… apparently… a new party arrived. Oh great, he thinks, more guests for the feast and… "I am the great and powerful Oz, fear me!"

What. The. Fucking. Hell. He did not just hear Thomas Moore's voice booming all across the village, quoting from the _Wizard of Oz_. He just did _not_. Maybe… maybe there wasn't just narcotics on the tip of that arrow but also some hallucinogen? Yeah, that must be it. There's no way in hell Woolsey decided to send _Moore's_team as the second rescue party. That just… "You will leave my subjects be or I shall vanquish you."

This is not happening. Not at all. Not in his world, not in any other world. "Release my subjects or my great and mighty… no, Dee, I don't think that's what Maureen meant… anyway. Where was I? Oh, right. Release my subjects or my great and mighty magic will smite you and sweep you off the Earth!"

A groan that has nothing to do with the pain in his arm or the yoke on his shoulders escapes him. If he weren't bound like this, he'd head desk. Very, very hard. Most of all because for some reason… it became awfully quiet outside now. And did they really… the natives didn't just kneel down, did they? "I will now enter your dwelling with my faithful servants and beware they that will touch me!"

Whatever they rigged up as a plan in Atlantis, it better work. Also, he'd like to know how the hell Woolsey expects them to write a report about _this_. Actually, he already started wondering how to file this. Does it still fit into the Aliens Made Us Do It or rather Things No One Is Ever To Speak Of This Again? Mh. Maybe he should make the second one a subfolder of the first one… Oh God.

From what he can see through the bars, a party of four just entered the village but none of them look like Moore's team. There are… masks and… costumes and… whoever came up with the plan was either stoned or certifiable.

Or, okay, a really good ethnologist. Because the locals are still kneeling and… chanting? And one of them is bowing in front of the guy with the biggest mask – Moore, no doubt about it – and talking in… broken English? Since when do their captors speak English? The briefing didn't say anything about that but that's probably just because no one made it to actually speaking to the locals because they're even more trigger happy than the average Atlantis USAF Lieutenant.

Okay, still talking… no, moving again. One of the locals – probably the chieftain – is leading Moore's team over to… damn, he can't get to see where to they're led. Then, for a while everything happens out of his sight. Then… his door is yanked open and he gets to see Moore in his masked glory up close and personal. He wonders who got tasked with paper mâchéing _this_. It's… interesting.

And it's a _relief_ when he's untied and the yoke is taken from his shoulders. God, that feels _good_, he thinks when he can finally get up from his knees and roll and stretch his shoulders. Then Moore just… waves his hand and immediately, the natives rush out of the hut, only leaving him and… oh, look, it's Team Sheppard _and_ his own Sergeants. So where's Lieutenant… "Okay, guys, I'll just make it short and explain the rest at the debriefing. _You_ are my subjects. _I_am your king. Got it?" Well, that was less surprising than he thought it would be.

What _is_surprising, though, is that Sheppard just nods and not even Rodney challenges Moore's order. So he feels compelled to mutter, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

The answer comes on the spot. "Immensely."

Of course. That was to be expected. And there's no reason to grin like that for Ronon and Sheppard. He glares at Moore's masked face. "I hate you."

In reply, Moore claps his back just a little too forcefully for his still hurting shoulders and says heartily and with an audible grin, "Feeling's mutual." One day… he _will_catch Moore unawares and not half as slick as he usually is. It'll be his pleasure. "Anyway, sit rep." He turns to Sheppard. "Couldn't get the locals to give you back your weapons but I could get us safe passage back to the 'Gate. I could convince him that I'm from a faraway kingdom and hold the power of magic and you accidentally trespassed into their territory. Don't ask, I'm just doing what I was ordered to, sir."

Sheppard nods. "Did you bring your medic?" Moore nods. "Alright. Did the locals give you some time before departure?" Another nod. "Good. Have Morsberg do a quick check on everyone and then let's get the hell out of here. Any questions?" Everyone including himself shakes their heads and Moore orders his medic to give everyone a quick once over.

After Morsberg has taken care of everyone with a standard check and a shot of preemptive inflammation blocker, Moore prepares to get back into his act and then leads them out of the village like a flock of misguided sheep. Or at least that's what they're trying to look like. Rodney and Ronon aren't particularly good at it so he's glad when they finally get back into the forest surrounding the village.

A couple of steps into the forest, Moore and the rest of his team finally take off their masks and… oh. Huh. He raises his eyebrows. Briefly checking if Sheppard is going to say anything and finding he looks more occupied with taking point again, he turns back to Moore. "Where's your scientist?"

Moore shrugs and rolls his eyes, taking up walking when Sheppard orders the teams to get moving again. "Einstein? Down for the count. Intergalactic space flu or something. But look who I brought instead."

With that he jerks his thumb back towards a rather disheveled looking Lieutenant McSmarty… Simmons. "Hey, boss... uh, nice to see you, sir." If he didn't know better, he'd say the Lieutenant is…

"He alerted us to the whole thing. Good job, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." Good God, Simmons _is_blushing at the compliment Tom just paid him. Even in the half dark of the moonlit forest he can see it. Oh jeez.

Let's find a different topic, he thinks and opts for, "Whose idea was this?"

"Maureen's." Okay. He should probably _never_mention that "either stoned or certifiable" thing. He's not keen on getting thrashed by Moore more than necessary. "She said it's a perfect mission for me. I get to be king and if I do my job right, not a shot is going to be fired. How did I do?"

He resists rolling his eyes at Moore's mock enthusiastic tone. "Much too well. And where _is_Captain Reece?" Because she obviously helped developing the plan and because she's a linguist and would have been an integral part. Granted, she doesn't go much on off-world missions anymore, seeing as they still couldn't get her a team of her own but…

"Did I mention this space flu thing? Entire science division is out." Oh good God. He and Sheppard go missing together just for _once_and the entire science division contracts some outer space bug? Jeez…

Suddenly, _Rodney_seems very interested, too. Interested enough that he stops in the middle of the path to turn around and utter indignantly in Moore's direction, "But your Captain isn't..."

"It's better if I ignore him, right?" Yeah, better for _Rodney_, he wants to say but thankfully Teyla is nice enough to realize the peril Rodney is in faster than the doc did and just gently drags him with her. Damn, he'd have loved to see _that_showdown.

Oh well. There's something else that bugs him, anyway. He turns to Moore again, a frown on his face. "You realize that you just behaved like a colonist who's exploiting a native peoples' weakness created by deep spiritualism, right?"

Moore is silent for a moment. In the end he says, "Yes, I do. And did it get your hands uncuffed or not?" Right. Of _course_he'd say something like that.

He glares at Moore. "Just shut up."

The only thing Moore does is giving him a smart, "Yessir," and since they just reached the 'Gate he decides he'll leave it at that for now. They'll have to talk about it later – most of all because he's pretty sure neither Reece nor Woolsey told Moore to go _that_heavy on the whole Wizard of Oz thing – but right now he's just glad this is over.

From the look of it, Sheppard is too when he joins them after telling Rodney to dial the 'Gate. Yeah, well, that thing about being ambushed by natives with spears and arrows and the whole not being able to break out of the huts thing? That wasn't embarrassing. Not when compared to the fact that Thomas Moore in the disguise worthy of the Wizard of Oz came riding into the village and freed them nearly singlehandedly by basically being an annoying and most of all very inflated version of his usual self. He clears his throat but doesn't look at Sheppard, just at the 'Gate establishing the event horizon. "Let's not ever do this again, John."

As the members of the various teams involved start to leave the planet one by one, Sheppard simply says. "No, let's absolutely not, Evan."

He's kind of glad Sheppard agrees so unanimously. Most of all because he just saw Moore walk by with another bright grin, telling them he'll _never_let them live this one down. He feels compelled to add, "Let's block this gate address as soon as we get back."

Now he does look at Sheppard and is relieved when he hears him say with a surprising amount of conviction, "Let's _absolutely_ do _that_."

Well, then… off to Atlantis back to a very weird debriefing, a sniffling science division and the bed he shares with Laura. He could very much go without the former two but he figures it'll just make the last one even more pleasant. Even if _Laura_ will never let him live this down, either. But that'll be worth it. Just another day in outer space and he's going home now. That's probably the best thing about the day. He grins and enters the 'Gate. Home. No better place to be


	20. Five Times Christmas Wasn't Business

**A/N:** Holiday Fic Request Meme. So. This year's Christmas fic! \o/ It's a _monster_, and it was a monster to _write_ and thank _God _I'm done with it. Also, pretty much spoilery, mostly for stuff that's far into the future of _Protect and Survive/Minor Characters_ (okay, actually, it goes past _The Government Conspiracy Job_. I did everything I could to make it. as unspoileriy as I could but there are some _very _minor spoilers in part V). Also, thanks to **Elizabeth Bartlett** for the wonderful petname Charlie has for Anna. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you!

* * *

**Five Times Christmas Eve Wasn't Business as Usual**

"_Everybody around the world  
Wherever you may be  
Don't  
Forget  
The love  
Under the Christmas tree."_

_Albert Hammond, "Under the Christmas Tree"_

I

It's Christmas Eve 2002 and she thinks she's going to explode, both literally and figuratively. She's eight months pregnant with her second child, the first one is refusing to be anywhere other than her arms but keeps constantly squirming around, her mother in law just called to get on her nerves, the local Key Spouses asked her to bake cookies for tomorrow's big Christmas Day get together, she's got about a thousand student papers to grade… and the _goddamn telephone just rang again_.

Oh good God and now Felix started to cry again. She's just… she… she's _this_ close to picking up and putting the receiver back on the phone so it'll stop its infernal ringing but she's been a military wife for over seven years now and Charlie's away on deployment in Afghanistan. Answering the phone at all times is deeply ingrained in her. She picks it up. "Williamson, what is it?"

"Gee, Anna, I was hoping you'd be _glad_ to hear from me." Oh God, Charlie. It's Charlie. He said he wouldn't be able to call over Christmas because basically everyone wanted to and communication home was rickety at best and… _it's Charlie calling her on Christmas Eve_.

She knows she should be poised and positive because that's what all those other military wives say they are when they're on the phone with their husbands. Not to worry your airman is every Air Force wife's first duty. But as Lena Krystowsky would say, to hell with an Air Force wife's duty. "I am. Oh God, Charlie, I'm so _glad_ to hear your voice. Felix is so fussy lately and the other little one just won't let me sleep at night and oh God, I'm so sorry but your mother is a stupid old dragon who only exists to make my life miserable, I _swear_ she is and…"

"I miss you too, Sweet Tea." Right. And is that an amused undertone? There's nothing funny about this. _Nothing at all_. There's… there's her husband sitting thousands of miles away from her in a country that's very much at war, having to deal with problems that are actually _problems_ and for the first time ever she understands why some Air Force wives never tell their husbands how they feel or what they have to deal with.

She takes a deep breath and sits Felix down on the counter, taking care never to leave him untouched so he won't start wailing again. Miraculously, it works. "Hey, I'm… I'm sorry, Red Tape. Sorry for the ranting. I know you have much heavier stuff to deal with and…"

"I'm neither pregnant, nor do I have to take care of a toddler and a household all on my own. And _most of all_ I don't have to deal with my _mother_. If it makes you happy, rant your heart out. As long as I can hear your voice, I'm happy." She's not sure if she heard him right because there's a lot of static interrupting him every few moments and Felix started babbling away, quite happily and she could just suppress a little groan because the other little one just woke up.

A little exhausted, she sits down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter and rubs her lower back… and then it just slips out, "I love you, Charlie."

There's silence from the other end and she's afraid that the connection just got severed or, worse yet, that this was somehow against some secret OPSEC code or something but then she realizes she didn't hear him say anything because he was trying not to let her hear that he's quietly laughing. After another minute in which she can hear him faintly snorting and chuckling, getting ready to give him a good wigging for laughing about something serious as this, she hears him say, "I love you too, Anna."

"Yeah, you better. It's a great achievement to be loved by _me_," she huffs but it just serves to make him laugh harder.

Then she can hear that he _tries_ to sound chiding, "You've been talking to Lena Krystowsky again, haven't you? _And_ Laura Greenspan."

Of course she has. What did he think she'd do, being pregnant and alone on Christmas? Pffft. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

He just laughs again and she has to admit that it's probably the most wonderful thing she ever heard, so she decides to stop being a brat and uses the time she has with him to talk and laugh and have him talk to Felix and tell him about the strange relocation orders Evan received instead of deployment orders and generally make the best of having Charlie on the phone on Christmas Eve instead of having him at home. Such is the life of an Air Force wife.

II

He's not quite sure how Maureen Reece ended up in his quarters on his first Christmas Eve in Atlantis – it _might_ have something to do with Reece trying to find refuge from the all-encompassing Christmas cheer that has the city in its death grip, Reece's words, not his – but it's not like he's complaining. He's not even complaining about the whole power outage thing that McKay just informed them about because of the raging thunderstorm outside. And he _sure as hell_ won't complain about Maureen Reece sitting on his couch.

The only thing he _is_ complaining about is that he can't find the _damn flashlight or even just candles_. He _knows_ he had both in his bedroom… no, wait, they're in his kitchen. But he's got something else in his bedroom… _gotcha_. "Uh, sir, not to bother you or anything… holy crap!"

_What_? Oh, right. "Never seen a guy with night-vision goggles on, Kid?"

They're not the best quality but it would have been too conspicuous if he'd ordered the high end ones before being transferred to Atlantis. He didn't want to be on any online shop's list of buyers for NVGs only a handful of people own on the planet. And those he owns are good enough to see that she's leaning against the door frame of his bedroom door with her arms crossed. He's pretty sure he can even detect her trademark "the Major's being an idiot again" look.

"No, sir. Just never seen anyone with _privately owned_ ones." What's so weird about that, he thinks but chooses not to answer her. Sometimes it's the best thing he can do in a conversation with her. So he just brushes past her and tries not to think about Maureen Reece in his bedroom door and _sure as hell_ not about Maureen Reece in his _bedroom_ – not _again_, anyway – as he makes his way to his kitchen to rummage around to find the damn candles. And some matchsticks. Because he just decided that it's still Christmas Eve after all and that warrants candles, not a flashlight. Besides, Reece's hair and eyes and basically everything about her looks _gorgeous_ in candlelight.

So he returns to his couch to light the candles on the coffee table and then their soft flickering light fills the room. Reece returned to his couch as well and looks… uncomfortable? Aw, come on, he thinks, it's not like I'm… but when another roll of thunder shakes the city and lightening paints the room in an unnatural white light she winces visibly and seems to huddle on the couch. Is she _shaking_?

He frowns. "Reece?"

"I'm... good, sir. Just a little... cold?" Was that a question? He just raises his eyebrows and she glares back, telling him not to probe any further. Oh well. With an obedient sigh, he pads back to the bedroom to dig up a blanket. And okay, yes, it's a little chilly so he sits down and drapes the blanket around him while another crack of thunder echoes in the room and Reece winces again.

Okay, this is weird. As far as he can remember, Reece was never afraid of thunderstorms when they were still at the SGC. Something must have happened in the time the Expedition was cut off from Earth. Actually, he can't even remember her being afraid of them here. There were one or two off-world missions that ended up with them being thoroughly soaked and she never even batted an eyelash at the thunder and lightning _there_. This is probably one of those situations were Laura used to say "if you don't ask, you're never gonna learn what's going on". He sighs. "Kid, what's going on? And don't say "nothing" because the way you nearly jump out of your skin every time there's thunder? That's not "nothing"."

"I do not..." A stern glare. "Alright. Maybe I wince a little." Okay, that's half an admission. He can work with that.

He sighs and digs himself out of the swaths of blanket again. "What happened, Kid?"

She looks at him, with that deer in headlights look she gave him so often back at the SGC but never since he came to Atlantis, to see her again after over a year. "I… there was… last year we had…" Another bolt of lightning and she winces enough to momentarily curl up.

Okay. It seems to be something deeper this time. Deep enough that he feels the deep seated urge to protect Reece stir. He could keep it under wraps for most of the year that he spent in Atlantis with her as his 2IC but he'd also tried to avoid seeing her emotionally vulnerable. Now… now he can't get away. And it's back full force. It's out before he can do anything against it, and it surprises him how rough his voice sounds, "Come here."

She blinks and then shakes her head. "Oh no, sir, I…" Not that again.

"Come here, Kid." Mh. Maybe he should make that sound less… intimate. "I'm starting to get jumpy myself seeing you over there. Just do us a both a favor and get your ass over here." Also, she's still shivering. "Sides… blanket's not big enough to cover us _both_ if you keep sitting over there."

There's another moment of silence, then she rolls her eyes in a "yeah, yeah, _fine_" gesture and scoots over, close enough that her knees are lying on his thighs. When he lifts his arm to put it on the sofa's backrest, he tells himself it's just to make sitting more comfortable for himself and not to accommodate her and have it in a strategically advantageous position to maybe put it around her shoulders later. He puts the blanket back in place to cover both of them this time and once they're both settled in, he has a bit of trouble not to whisper when he says, "Now tell me?"

To his surprise… she does. Obviously, there'd been trouble with those Genii guys in the year they'd been cut off from Earth. Some big thunderstorm that led to the city being evacuated but not before some big hassle. She doesn't elaborate much but from the way she tenses ever so often, even he can see that it's not his presence that has her tight up in knots.

Actually, it seems as if the longer she's sitting so close to him, the more she relaxes. Enough that after a while, her head is lying on his arm and her soft regular breathing on the skin of his arm is giving him chills of a whole different kind. Obviously, Maureen Reece fell asleep in his arms. He grins and takes the liberty of smiling and breathing, "Merry Christmas, Kid. And thank you," in her hair. Because this? Best Christmas present _ever_.

III

So it's Christmas Eve and the annual Atlantis Christmas party is in full swing. Has been for two hours now. A little more subdued than usual because everyone who knew Carson Beckett still remembers how much he loved the Atlantis Christmas party but still a very pleasant and fun affair. Which is why it seems a little odd that Lieutenant Cadman still hasn't made her way to the mess hall.

Okay, yes, she'd been Carson's girlfriend for a while but the way he understood it, it had been over even before Carson died. On the other hand… he still remembers the way she looked when he told her that Carson was killed. He remembers the way she was laughing and talking to a friend one moment and looking confused and shocked the next. He remembers how sorry he'd been for spoiling her carefree mood like that but the moment the news had reached him, he'd known that _someone_ should tell her. He'd known he'd probably be the only one thinking of it so he'd been the one bringing her the bad news. The guilt over that made him start looking out for her after it had happened.

It's one of the reasons why he noticed her absence right from the beginning. That and the fact that he was hoping he might get to… well… say goodbye to her in a proper manner. Her request for transfer went across his desk two weeks ago and it only took another week to have it approved. He never tried to talk her out of it but somehow, the thought of Laura Cadman not being in the city anymore… it's not a nice one. And where the hell _is_ she?

Mh. Something tells him he might know where she is… and that she might not want company. But hell, it's _Christmas_ and like hell he'll let one of his soldiers be unhappy over Christmas. He ignores that he actually just doesn't want _Laura Cadman_ to be unhappy. And anyway, that's not the point here. The point is that he just decided to slip out of the mess hall and go looking for Cadman. Just for a few minutes, just to make sure that she's okay.

He takes great care for no one to see that he leaves the mess hall and then discreetly asks the city to locate Lieutenant Cadman for him. The city tells him what he already assumed. She's on a balcony in the West quarter, a couple of levels up.

When he finds her balcony after a spontaneous detour to his quarters to get the package of home baked cookies his mother sent, he sees her sitting in a deck chair, swathed in a blanket, looking out into the Lantea night. There's something that looks like like a thermos flask on the floor next to her and it gives his heart a curious little stab to see sociable Laura Cadman of all people alone on Christmas Eve. Well. No guts, no glory, as Cadman would say.

He steps out on the balcony and… clears his throat, not quite sure what to say. Which is why he's almost grateful that the task is taken from his hands when Cadman half turns around and squints at him. "Evening, sir." Okay, that's a good start, isn't it? She _could_ have told him to beat it, couldn't she?

"Evening, Lieutenant." Mh. So far, so good. And now? Oh, okay, maybe just the truth. With Cadman jumping right to the issue was never a problem. "So I noticed… you weren't at the Christmas party."

She looks very much like she'd like to raise her eyebrows and give him some smartass answer in the line of "You noticed. Uh-huh. Way to go, Major Eagle-eye." but in the end she just shrugs and says, "Just wasn't in the mood for it," and turns back to the city panorama. He starts feeling a little ridiculous standing here with his cookies. But he was never one for giving up easily.

"I… understand." That gets her to turn around again and frown. "I really do. I… Laura, I miss him, too." Calling her by her first name hadn't really been planned but this didn't feel like something you use rank or last name for.

"I… thank you, sir. But it's not… it's not just missing Carson." That… surprises him. What else is this about?

Oh. Well. How about he just asks her. "This has something to do with your transfer request, doesn't it?" He never planned on talking about it with her because he figured she had her reasons. _Private_ reasons. But if those reasons drive her to something as out of character as missing out on the _Christmas party_…

She doesn't answer right away and he doesn't blame her. If he's honest, he never actually expected her to answer so he's a bit surprised when she does. "Kinda. You know, since Carson died… I just… I just don't feel at home here anymore. Something doesn't fit anymore." She didn't look at him when she said that and he feels another wave of guilt crashing down on him. If she's feeling like that… doesn't it mean he screwed up looking after her? "Hey, don't worry. It's not your fault, sir." What?

Oh. She must have seen something in his face telling her of his private guilt trip. Is he really that easy to read? "No, that's… I didn't think…" Time to change the topic. Or at least change it away from the uncomfortable feeling of Laura Cadman being able to read his mind. "Hey, uh… do you know where you'll be staying yet, Lieutenant?"

If she's put off by his sudden attempt at distracting her, she doesn't show it. Instead she shrugs. "Not really, sir. I have a couple of things in storage in Springs but… no house or anything. Guess I'll stay at the SGC for a couple of weeks first and then try to find a place."

Somehow the thought of Cadman staying at the SGC, in one of the drab and windowless personnel quarters makes him a little… sad. Or maybe it's the thought of Cadman not living in her airy and bright quarters in Atlantis anymore. It's a thought he banished from his mind as soon as it appeared. The downside of that is that it distracts him enough from himself that something he hadn't wanted to say out loud makes it out in the open, "Let me know when you find something?"

That was just _stupid_. Why not ask her outright if she wants to be your pen pal and thoroughly make a fool out of yourself, you idiot, an ugly little voice whispers in his mind and he's ready to turn tail and never talk to her again when she says, "Sure, sir," and gives him a little smile that makes his heart beat a little faster.

It's that sudden increase in heart rate that makes him clear his throat and utter, "Great. Uh… merry Christmas, Lieutenant?" _Why_ did that just come out as a _question_?

And _why_ can't she stop smiling that amused little smile? "Yeah, merry Christmas, sir." Ah, she stopped smiling. Unfortunately, it's replaced by a look that's probably supposed to be all business and she adds, "And uh, have fun at the party tonight."

Somehow, suddenly… the desire to turn tail isn't half as strong anymore. Actually, it was just replaced by the wish to remain here. Just a little while longer. Because he'll probably never get a chance to be alone with her like that again. He clears his throat. "Actually… I'd like a few more minutes of quiet. If you don't mind." A little belatedly, he remembers the package in his hands and can't help adding, "And I brought cookies."

That… makes her smile that little wonderful smile again and for the life of him he can't bring himself to wish he hadn't added that afterthought. "No, I don't mind at all, sir. If you want a chair… there are a couple more in the corner over there. No blankets, though."

Pffft. Blankets. Okay, so it's not exactly _warm_ out here in shirtsleeves but really. "That's okay. I may be from California but I can take a _little_ chill."

Now it's her who clears her throat and then she says in a tone as if she isn't quite sure if that's the best or worst idea she ever had, "I'd… share, sir. In exchange for cookies."

Oh. Well. In that case… a blanket would be absolutely okay. He knows he should be arguing that and simply stick with his no blanket policy but… it's Christmas. And she'll be gone the day after tomorrow. There can hardly be harm in indulging oneself just a _little_. He smiles. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"You're welcome, sir," she simply answers and he gets himself a deck chair. When he sits down next to her and slips under the blanket she offers to gaze out at the stars and the city panorama and share cookies with her, he realizes he'll miss her. Terribly. But for tonight, he's got her all to himself and he's going to make the most of it. The Christmas party was a little dull, anyway.

IV

He's pretty sure Kassandra will really like the little thing he got her for Christmas. Thankfully they could both worm their way out of the whole stupid Secret Santa thing by simply evading each and every person trying to rope them into taking part so he could put all his energy into finding a Christmas gift for the one person in Atlantis that matters enough to him to actually warrant the gesture. He'll give it to her tonight even though it's not tradition to give Christmas gifts on Christmas Eve.

In his culture, at least but he knows there are a couple of countries where people get their gifts on Christmas Eve and he'd like to show Kassandra that he learned something in the six months he's been serving here and that he's very open minded and tolerant and all that.

Oh, okay, that's a lie. _Actually_, he just can't wait to see her reaction to the little something he got her and uses that whole "being open for other cultures" thing as an excuse to get to it ASAP. He's pretty sure he doesn't even want to wait until midnight. Which is also why he'll not make a fuss about them not being alone tonight because the boss and his wife – oh God, he will _never_ get used to the fact that his boss and the Cap are _married_ now – invited a couple of people over to their quarters for a little pre-Christmas Day get together and Kassandra told him in very certain terms that they would _not_ reject that invitation.

Yeah, yeah, great honor, blahblahblah… but if it makes her happy to go there, he'll do it. Gladly, even, or something like it. So he's standing in front of Major Lorne and Captain Cadman-Lorne's quarters and trying to look relaxed when Kassandra rings the bell and a minute later, a grinning Cap opens the door and ushers them in. Oh God, and they're also the last to arrive. Everyone else – the Sergeants, Major Moore, Captain Reece, Moore's Sergeant and even the German medic, Dr. Keller, Ronon Dex… and _oh God_, Colonel Sheppard and Ms. Emmagan, too – is already there and… they're not late, are they?

Almost ready to panic, he looks at Kassandra but she just rolls her eyes and gives him a little punch in the arm before she swishes off to talk to her new friends, the Marine Captains. Correction, the Marine Captains _and_ Ms. Emmagan, who just seemed to have welcomed Kassandra just as warmly as the Captains. Or at least that's what the smile and the few warm words he couldn't quite understand indicated. He should never have let Kassandra go to that bachelorette bash.

So… "So, Lieutenant… You gonna wait until tomorrow or give it to her tonight?" What? What the hell is Major Moore talking…

"No use pretending you don't know what Major Moore here is talking about, Joe. Punch?" But he really doesn't know… oh, alcohol. If there's one thing he learned at the Academy it's never to say no when your superior offers you alcohol.

Okay, what he _actually_ learned was that you should _always_ say no when your superior offers you alcohol but what the heck. This is Atlantis. Basically _everything_ is different in Atlantis. "With pleasure, sir."

Pointedly ignoring the gleeful grin that his boss and Major Moore share, he takes a sip from the… _holy crap_. This is not funny, gentlemen. Stop snorting and… _giggling_. He'd even have said it if whatever is in that punch wouldn't have burned its way all over whatever is in his throat. "Don't even ask what's in there. It's the Sergeants special mix and they might even _tell_ you." From the look of it, it's an _experimental_ mix because the Sergeants who were standing over in a corner talking to Moore's NCO and his medic seem to look _very_ interested in their direction. He averts his eyes as soon as they registered his gaze and turns back to the Majors. "So, what Major Moore here meant was that he knows you took part in a time honored tradition to buy Christmas gifts for Atlantis women off-world and that he's very much interested in when you'll give it to _your_ Atlantis woman."

He's pretty sure Kassandra would kick his ass if he called her "his Atlantis woman" and that the Cap would do the same to the boss if she heard him referring to her that way. "Time honored _tradition_? When did that start? And yes, I am. _Very_ much interested. Little Miss Wilson's been dropping hints left, right _and_ center." Hints? What kind of hints?

But even if he knew what the hell Moore was talking about, he wouldn't have gotten to answer him anyway. "Yes, _tradition_. Remember the thing that Kemp got Wells last year?" Wait, what? _Those two_? Never in a _million years_. He's pretty sure they'd have killed each other before they even made it to the decision to… no. No thinking that way about fellow company grade officers. Just not. "Anyway, what did _you_ get _Maureen_ this year?"

"Nothing you can buy. Neither off-world nor anywhere else." _And no thinking that way about field grade or any other officers, dammit_. It would be a _lot_ easier if…

"I don't think I wanted to know that. Anyway… when are you going to give your thing to Miss Wilson?" What? Oh, right. The boss was talking to him. Thankfully, though, he's spared his answer because apparently, somewhere over in the women's corner decided to make this a spontaneous movie night and the Cap put a DVD into the DVD player – The Muppets Christmas Carol? Really? – and people are slowly gathering around the TV.

For the next hour, he looks frantically for a chance to get Kassandra alone while simultaneously trying not to stare at anyone who's fraternizing with each other… okay, basically trying not to stare at _anyone_ exchanging PDAs with each other because yes, seeing that kind of thing makes him uncomfortable and no, he doesn't mind that this makes him a prude.

Then, finally, when Scrooge is shown his own grave, Kassandra excuses herself quietly to get up and go to the bathroom. He keeps an eye on the door and when it opens, he takes care to catch her far away enough from the rest of the living room without making it look like he's dashing up. "Hey, uh… I know it's not Christmas Day yet and everything but I really wanted to give you this for Christmas…"

She's looking up at him and he's pretty sure he never saw her like this before. All expectant and shining eyes and well… Better not prolong this anymore. He takes out the little box he'd been carrying around in his pocket the entire evening and… wow, he's pretty sure he just saw her eyes mist over. Just like when he'd told her the boss and the Cap would… "You fucking _idiot_."

What the _hell_? Why did she just call him an idiot when she opened the box and saw the beautiful, sophisticated and not exactly cheap silver pendant he got her on that well-developed world they visited last week? And why the _hell_ did she just turn around and stomp out of the room without a word. Whatever did he… what… "What… but I don't…"

"She was waiting for you to pop the question, buddy." Damn! Did the boss just _have_ to sneak up on him like that?

And what the hell was he _talking_ about? "Which… question?"

"_The_ question, Lieutenant McSmartypants." Oh, how he hates it when people – _especially_ Major Moore – call him that and…

Wait. _The_ question… _that_ question. Huh? "But how would she get the idea…" Oh. _Fuck_. "_Those _were the hints you meant, right, sir?"

Moore claps him on the back, just a little too forceful and even adds, "Congratulations, Captain Obvious."

This… is really not good. This is not good and it's even worse that _Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard_ is privy to all of this. It's also not helpful that his boss says, "Don't worry, Lieutenant. As soon as she calms down enough she'll love it. And you'll get laid again. I think it'll only take her about a million years."

Oh God, this is just… "Boys, stop being mean to him." The Cap. She just… saved his life. Not necessarily his dignity but at least his life. Because he was sure he was going to _die_ from embarrassment just a moment ago. "Go on, get your girl, Lieutenant. The sooner, the less drama, the better."

Well, he's not sure if that is really going to help because the way Kassandra looked… and oh God, he also effectively spoiled the party. He actually wants to die again. "I'm… I'm so sorry, that I… I'm sorry to have…"

The Cap smiles and even punches him in the arm a little. "No reason to be sorry for such good entertainment." Oh, of course she'd be happy about his misfortune. They all are and… "Now off with you. Maybe you can catch her and get her back in time for Evan here reading from Dickens's _Christmas Carol_."

Oh. Well. He'd never… he's quite… surprised at the confidence she puts in his abilities to make Kassandra forget about such an awful blunder as _this_. Much more than he has himself, actually. But she's been here for longer and as he found out the hard way, she _wasn't_ promoted just because she's sleeping with Sheppard's XO. He swallows. "Yes, ma'am."

And now… off to… find his girlfriend and try to make her forget he _didn't_ ask her to marry him… without actually asking her. He's just not ready for that. Yet. He just needs a little more time. But first he needs to get her back. Yes. He will. And then he won't only have saved everyone else's Christmas but most of all his own. Yeah. Good plan.

V

It's Christmas Eve and she's kind of glad they're spending it at home on Earth, in the Indiana home of Will's parents. She loves Atlantis but after what happened earlier this month… no, she will not think about it now. She promised her friends she wouldn't, even though she can't just stop caring about her friends – most of all those in need of love and care – and that she would just think of herself and her husband. She promised she would, so that's what she's doing.

So hard actually that… at first she didn't notice that something was missing. Something that came with startling regularity since she was 14. But not this month. Not in December 2010. At first she couldn't believe that she was overdue, then she was starting to think something had to be horribly wrong… and then her sensible nurse self had made her go out and buy a test kit when Will wasn't looking and now she's here, staring at two pink lines and there are no words to describe how she feels.

For so long… She's been married to Will for ten years and they'd tried to conceive for nearly three years, until they were told it just wouldn't work for them and they'd decided against artificial means _and_ adoption, knowing it would be just as hard and painful as trying to conceive for them because they were a military couple and Will had wanted to make a career in the Corps and she'd always supported him in that… and now it happened. Just like that. After maybe a year in Atlantis it just… happened. She doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

She'd like to think it's just hormones but seriously, this is… it's… it's something she has to tell Will. Right fucking now, as Laura would say. So she tries to pull herself together and takes a deep breath and leaves the bathroom. Down the stairs and into the living room where Will is the only one still around. The rest of the family – his parents and his brother and his family – went to bed about an hour ago and she'd actually just wanted to get herself ready for bed when she'd remembered the test she bought and just tried it… and now she feels absolutely unable to go to bed.

Will's reading and doesn't notice her at first so she hides the test stick behind her back and clears her throat before saying a little breathlessly, "Will?"

He looks up from his book, looking a little surprised to see her still up. "Hm?"

Well. It occurs to her that this might be a bit of a blow for him so she tries to be gentle. She takes a few steps towards him and clears her throat again. "I… I think I have to do the Simmons this year."

"The… what?" Mh. Obviously, that didn't ring any bells. Even though he'd been present when Lieutenant Simmons hadn't asked the question Kassandra had expected from him. Sometimes Will can be so _dense_.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she clarifies, "I've got an early Christmas present for you."

"Really, what…" Oh jeez, this is killing her. She just can't wait any longer so she simply puts the stick in his hand. He _is_ a medic. He should well be able to figure it out on his own. However, the frown on his face doesn't promise much about that figuring out things on his own thing. "Is this… yours?"

Her first impulse is to say something along the lines of "No, it's one from the girl next door." because apparently, she's been spending too much time with Laura and Maureen but she barely manages to keep it at, "Uh-huh."

That… didn't help much, though. There's still disbelief on his face and he asks again, "_This_ is _yours_?"

Sometimes… _sometimes_. She rolls her eyes, in a very Atlantis woman like manner. "Didn't I just say that?"

"Oh my God." Oh look who finally realized what's going on here.

She can't help grinning. "Yes, well, I doubt He had much to do…"

"Oh my fucking _God_." Yes, he kind of said that before.

"Again…"

"I'm going to be a father." Wow, Will Meyers, genius. "You're going to be a mother." No really, Captain Obvious? "We're going to be _parents_." She's _this_ close to finally voicing the sarcasm but he beats her to it, engulfing her in a crushing hug and kissing her as if his dear life depended on it and then swinging her around and generally being the guy she met twelve years ago. It's been a while since she saw him _exactly_ like that.

When he finally lets her down again, she reaches up to his face and she isn't sure if he just spilled a few tears of joy or if that's just… okay, he probably did. She smiles and gives him another peck on the lips. "Merry Christmas, Will."

"Merry Christmas, Jessi." He grins back and she wishes every one of their friends could be as happy at Christmas as they are right now. Thankfully, though, he keeps her thoughts from going down that trail right now by putting a hand on her flat belly and murmuring "Merry Christmas, little one," in its direction.

She can't help swatting him playfully on the arm for that but he just drags her back onto the couch with him and cradling her. Not minding it, she curls up against him and while he whispers to her about naming suggestions and godparents and what he'll teach the kid first and how he will make sure that she's not going to lift a _finger_ during her pregnancy, she slowly drifts to sleep, her only Christmas wish being that for everything that made this year's end a lot less nice than its months before, next year will be so much more beautiful. They all need it. They all _deserve_ it.


	21. Take me Away to the Moonlight

**A/N:** Uh, yeah, um. I just saw that two stories posted already on LJ were missing here. So, have this one and another farm kids story and there's still one _Protect and Survive_ story from the meme unwritten. Yes, I didn't finish the meme in time :( But I learned from it! You'll see!

PS.: Takes shortly before _Air Force Wive_.

* * *

**Take me Away to the Moonlight**

_"Save me  
take me away to the moonlight  
the people around me don't feel right  
what are we doing here.  
Come on and save me let's get away from the action  
you are the only attraction  
take me away from here."  
_

_Clout, "Save Me"_

She wonders how all the other Lanteans do it, especially those in higher functions. She's just a little IT technician but she's thoroughly irritated after the fifth Welcome Back reception in a row. Actually, the fifth Welcome Back reception in _two months_, and that's not even counting the ball in DC two weeks ago.

They've been back from the Pegasus galaxy for about three months now and after four weeks in San Francisco Bay that were mostly spent on maintenance of about a thousand systems that got fried on Atlantis' wild ride through the galaxies, obviously the entire brass with a high enough security clearance wanted to see the city from Pegasus.

She tried to get out of it this time but Joe had mumbled something like "If _I_ have to go, _you_ have to go." and dragged her along for just another evening of polite conversation in the cafeteria. Serves him right that he's trapped in a conversation with Dr. McKay and Major Lorne now. Okay, a conversation with Major Lorne isn't a bad thing, if a bit... intimidating, most of all when Laura isn't there – like now, which is why she didn't join the conversation and left Joe to fend for himself – but a conversation with Dr. McKay? Not on her life. She'd _tried_ to like him but she failed miserably. She's pretty sure, though, that McKay doesn't even _want_ people to like him so it's probably okay that she doesn't.

So, how to dodge... Huh? What are they suddenly doing with their hands at their ears? And… why are they coming _her_ way now? "Come on, Kass, we're needed." She raises her eyebrows at the two soldiers and their slightly alarmed faces.

"What on Earth…" Hey! No manhandling the resident female IT techie, _Lieutenant McSmartypants_! "Will you just let go…"

"It's urgent, Miss Wilson." Oh, and that justifies Joe putting his Hand around her arm and… "But no reason to jostle your girlfriend, Lieutenant." Great, now her boyfriend's boss sounded like Joe was abusing her which isn't true. She was irritated, not hurt.

Not giving in to the temptation to rub her arm, she feels the need to correct something. Mostly the allegation that she needs anyone to rescue her from anything or anyone, much less her boyfriend. There _was_ nothing she needed to be rescued from. "It's okay, sir. No harm, no foul. Now what the hell..."

"Kassandra!"

"…is going on?" Joe can be such a… baby sometimes. Such a… country boy. Okay, so usually that's actually kind of cute…

"Laura said she found some irregularities in the virtual paperwork when she was going through some of it. She sounded a little… concerned." Mh. If she got it right, the translation for "concerned" is "confused like hell" or something like it. Actually… this is starting to get interesting. She decides to tag along for good measure, even she has no idea why _her_ presence is needed. Or Joe's, for that matter. Anyway. She tags along.

The boys don't talk much on the way to the Gate Control Room where Laura is currently on watch and she has to say, she finds it amazing how they manage to be so damn _fast_ in their Blues. But then again, she thinks a little sourly, they also don't wear a skirt and damn killer heels. Why _exactly_ did she let herself be convinced by Joe to wear…

"So what's the matter?" Oh, right. Mysterious virtual paperwork issue. Must concentrate on that. And wow, she just realized that she never saw Major Lorne in full CO mode before. It's… impressive.

Laura, however, doesn't look _really_ impressed. "Schedules are the matter. There's some slight… issue with them." Is she just imagining it or is Laura keeping her voice down so as not to alert the rest of the skeleton crew? If so, she probably doesn't have to make the effort. The arrival of two soldiers in their Blues and a computer technician in high heels and a skirt right from another very important reception probably spoiled it before she even began.

And… Major Lorne doesn't look really happy. "Schedules? You pulled us off that reception for _schedules_?"

At that, Laura only rolls her eyes and pushes the laptop she was working on around so they can all see the screen. "Look for yourself, Major Shouldn't Pretend He Likes Rubbing Elbows With The Brass."

Ouch. That kind of dirty look… she's glad Laura's its target, not her. She's not sure if she could deal as well with it as Laura who just… smirks. Major Lorne seems to ignore it with simply leaning down on his hands on either side of the laptop and Joe looks positively uncomfortable. She wonders if he will _ever_ get over this non-frat rules thing. Or maybe it's just him being a country boy again. With Joe, you never know.

Major Lorne keeps scrolling through the file and… it starts to dawn on her what's the issue. Before she gets to say it, though, Joe mutters, "But… they're gone."

Laura nods, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Exactly, Captain Obvious." Then she leans forward again and pulls the laptop towards her again. "And it's not just the schedules. It's the entire _roster_."

"Jesus fucking Christ," she hears Major Lorne groan and he straightens up again. "Alright. Did you alert Sheppard about it?"

There's a snort from Laura, then, "He'd only have delegated it to you, anyway." Why does she have a feeling that Major Lorne thinks that this is a _good_ thing?

Oh right, because he just nodded a little resignedly. She wonders if he knows that some of the lower decks like to call him "Sheppard's file rat" when none of his soldiers are there to listen.

Mh.

Okay.

She's pretty sure he _does_ know that. And not just because Joe likes to complain that there's _nothing_ his boss _doesn't_ know about. Right now, though, the boss seems to be a little clueless. "Okay… any suggestions? Anyone?"

She looks at Joe and it's a little ridiculous how proud she is of him when he simply grabs a chair and sits down next to Laura, in front of the laptop. "I… think I have an idea."

Interested in what that idea is, she steps behind him, to watch him scroll and type and look for what the hell happened to the military schedules and rosters. She can't help throwing in some remarks now and then and as always, Joe can't help bicker back. She pointedly ignores the amused looks they get from Laura and Major Lorne. It's much more important that she concentrates on the laptop's screen because… "Damn, Joe, you're doing it all wrong." Oops.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Oh yeah, she thinks, you know _exactly_ what I mean. And that I'm _right_. Ignoring his indignant stare and huff, she throws decorum to the wind and sits down in his lap. He'd never have vacated that chair, and she's her own woman. A woman who's still ignoring the looks and now also snorts and chuckles of amusement coming from Laura and Major Lorne.

Joe tries to protest one more time but she just rolls her eyes and gets a little more comfortable in his lap. Yeah, she thinks, that's what you get for making me dress up and dragging me to yet another boring reception.

Okay, where to start now… oh right. When she saw Joe wrestling with the database she started to get a suspicion. Something in the way he couldn't get any access was familiar to her… she tries a few shortcuts and backdoors that turn out to be dead ends but then she remembers an algorithm… and lo and behold, schedules file… _what the fucking hell_?

She blinks a couple of times before she manages to believe what she's seeing there. No schedules, no rosters. Just a text message.

_Oops. Seems as if someone _accidentally_ messed up the database. So sorry I couldn't put it in order before I got dragged off to commie land and let you enjoy your nth reception in a row in peace. But I'm sure McSmartypants and Miss Wilson will be a big help. Hope you didn't forget your authorization codes, Evan. You're gonna need 'em._

_Oh, and Maureen says none of this was her idea but she'd like to remind you and Laura not to do anything she wouldn't do while we're gone. Whatever she means by that. Anyway… tell the farm kids to have fun solving this!_

_Tom_

_PS.: Are you serious? Go after me? I'm your knight in shining armor!_

This. What. Huh? She's… pretty sure that… she's not supposed to find this funny but damn, Laura is grinning and even Major Lorne looks like it's very hard not to grin about it. Actually, it seems as if Joe's the only one who's still much more focused on the puzzle than on the fact that, apparently, _something_ happened to the database before Maureen and Major Moore took off for St. Petersburg and it went off like a time bomb today. She'd really like to believe it's just a very weird coincidence but with Major Moore and IT related issues… there's hardly ever any coincidence.

After another moment when Laura and Major Lorne try to look stern and not amused and Joe is trying to grasp the concept of saving someone by the bell, Major Lorne finally says, obviously struggling not to laugh, "So… I believe this is very high priority. Too high to be ignored. I'd say… we take care of this immediately."

She looks at Joe and _finally_ there's _some_ recognition on his face. And… relief? "Of course, sir. Kassandra, would you please… erm…"

No chance in hell. "Actually, I'm finding this a very convenient arrangement." So. The guy who had sex with her in a fucking _jumper_ with the door unlocked just blushed crimson at the thought of her keeping seated in his lap while they're solving an unfortunate database error while his superior is watching. She's _so_ going to thank Major Moore for this, all his smugness be damned.

And to be honest, from the look of it, both Major Lorne and Laura will – after retaliation, she's sure of that – be thanking him, as well. Major Lorne just got himself a chair and took off his jacket while Laura positioned herself suspiciously close to the Major and she didn't miss Laura's hand on the backrest of Major Lorne's chair – and subsequently Major Lorne's _back_ – either.

Well, she thinks as they all settle in for a couple of hours of digging around in the database's innards, this is a lot better than standing around the cafeteria and wondering how to dodge any of the officials. Actually, it's her idea of fun. Saved by the bell, indeed.


	22. Crazy Hazy Hue

**A/N: **So, yeah, second farm kids story. Takes place a week or so before _Show your World_ and shows us how well country boys can swear. Phew...

* * *

**Crazy Hazy Hue**

"_Hey, it's 'cause of you  
The world is in a crazy hazy hue..._

_My heart is beating like a jungle drum_  
_My heart is beating like a jungle drum_  
_My heart is beating like a jungle drum_  
_My heart is beating like a jungle drum."_

_Emilia Torrini, "Jungle Drum"_

His mother will kill him. She'll tell him that's not how she raised him and then she'll kill him. _If_ it turns out he did knock up Kassandra, after all. Right now, there's every reason to hope he didn't. It would throw a spanner the size of a jumper in his plans… _their_ plans and there'd be _nothing_ good about having to take responsibility for a kid _now_. Because, you know, _if_ he knocked up Kassandra, he knocked her up on their first date. The night after. Whatever.

God, he really, really hopes he didn't knock her up. There's no way he could ever talk to anyone in Atlantis and probably the entire Air Force again. Bitching about his boss and that female Marine officer and then knocking up his date? Nothing screams hypocrisy like that. She's not even his fucking _girlfriend_ and after that, she'll probably never be. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

What, in the fucking Lord's fucking name had he been _thinking_?

Nothing probably, a little voice in his head says that sounds suspiciously like his father's.

And probably not with his head either, another voice sounding like one of his sisters adds. Julia. The one who seems to constantly smirk at the world in general and him in particular.

Oh, holy fuck, this wasn't supposed to happen. Not on their first date. Actually, right now, not at all. And it's all his fucking fault. Of _course_ he had to invite her to a moonlight picnic on the damn _West_ Pier and of _course_ he messed up the weather forecast and of _course_ they both got soaking wet. He should have known. It was bound to happen. Joseph Eugene Simmons goes on a date and everything, really _everything_ goes wrong.

Right from the moment he asked her out, everything went wrong. After she'd made it known publicly what she thought – rather felt – about him, she'd kind of cornered him and he'd stammered something that probably sounded like "Datewitheme?" because he also swallowed half the sentence. It was kind of a miracle that she actually said yes and he'd kind of hoped that was the only thing that would go wrong on the date.

His hope had been in vain. The wine had been too warm, the cheese was half melted and there was that annoying bird that wouldn't let them have their dinner in peace. Oh well, at least the beast had been kinda like the falcons at the Academy so he could use his falconry skills to convince it to leave them alone but the rest… Argh.

Fucking rain that pounded the pier and why the hell did he think it was a good idea to take her to her quarters and then _enter_ her quarters but she'd been soaking wet and kind of shivering and his momma told him to be nice to girls and make sure they didn't catch a cold. So he'd walked her to her quarters and made sure she'd get warm and dry fast and well… obviously, she'd been raised to be nice to boys and make sure they didn't catch a cold and wanted to make sure he was warm and dry and yeah. One thing led to another. And now he's waiting for her to come back from the infirmary and tell him if Fate let them off the hook or his life is ruined. And hers. Oh God, _hers_.

His mother won't even get to kill him if she comes back with a positive test because Kassandra will have done that first. She'll kill him because she's one of the best junior IT technicians in the city and because she'd planned to stay here at _least_ two or even three years, maybe start a PhD, work on some real challenges. It'll all be over if she has to go home. Go home because of _him_. Because the wine had been warm but not exactly alcohol free and because he's an idiot and forgot about protection. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The worst thing is that she'd be right to do it and oh God, it's not that he doesn't _like_ her or that he doesn't see _potential_ with her or anything. It's just that they're so _young_ and that he's just not _ready_ for that kind of responsibility and that he's _totally_ not ready for the fact that he might have fucked up someone's life three ways from Sunday. This is just… it's…

"Joe?" Oh. Damn. Ahem.

He straightens up and tries to look relaxed. Not like he just spent kind of a couple of hours pacing and tearing out his hair. He can do that. "Uh, yeah?" Wow, _that_ was eloquent…

"So, uh…" Does she _have_ to drag it out? "About this being overdue thing…" Oh come _on_. "Apparently, this planet and uh, this _galaxy_, they have a different rhythm and…" He _swears_ he's going to… to… do something rash and impolite if she doesn't… "and apparently, that also has some effects on the human, err cycle and uh, to make a long story short… I'm not pregnant. Congratulations."

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh no, he's too young for this, his whole life is ruined, he… "I just said I'm _not_ pregnant, Joe."

He blinks. Wait. She said she's _not_ pregnant. Oh. Hey. Not pregnant. That's… "That's… good. Yeah. Very… good."

Why… is she looking at him like she's reconsidering the level of his intelligence? "Wow. The level of your eloquence has reached new heights, Lieutenant McSmartypants."

Uh… "Ex_cuse_ me?"

It's not funny. They just were let off the hook. This could easily have been the worst day of their lives and now it's maybe the best – so far, anyway – and she's… she's _mocking_ him. "Oh don't look at me like that, Joe. You have to admit that your reaction was a little… dry."

And what's so bad about _that_? "Pardon me, but what did you expect, huh?"

There's snorting now and she's… did she step closer? Uh, yeah, she did. A _lot_ closer. "Oh, for example… at least _some_ excitement, you know. Whooping maybe. Or… my favorite." _Very_ close now. That… that's a bad… "Hugging me and kissing me and…"

"Kassandra! That's what got us into this mess in the first place!" Hey! She wasn't supposed to _giggle_ about that!

And she wasn't supposed to… seriously? Is that… "Don't worry, I took care of _that_. Now… yours or mine?" Huh, what? "Quarters, Joe." Oh, right.

"Uh…" Very eloquent, indeed. One could think he went to a backwater college in deep Mississippi, not the United States Air Force Academy.

"You don't want to tell me that you'd like to continue this… conversation in a common room, do you?" Why shouldn't they have a conversa… oh, wait. That little thing she just flashed at him before it disappeared in her pocket… Well.

He can't help grinning. Mh. Maybe… maybe their first date won't be their last after all. "Not at all. I prefer… privacy." Unlike _other_ officers but this is neither the time nor the place to think about something like that.

Because, you know, his statement got him the desired result. "So do I. Come on, let's go. We've got something to celebrate."

Celebrate. Yeah. Celebration is a very good idea. And… he has another good idea. "Hey, uh… how about a detour?" There's an _adorable_ little pout on her face and he just _has_ to get up and give her a kiss on the corner of her mouth. And okay, on the other one, too. "To the kitchen. Maybe we'll find something to make up for that wine we had three weeks ago."

The pout is replaced by a grin that's just a little bit wicked and that… does strange things to… a couple parts of his anatomy. Whoa. "What are you waiting for, then?"

Well, that's his cue. He gives her another peck on the mouth and feels bold enough to grab her hand and drag her out of the common room. Finally he feels something bubbling up… relief, certainly, and anticipation, not just for tonight but for… he's not sure. But that's not important, anyway right now. Right now it's important that she's giggling and kissing him every few feet and it feels as if they're doing something not quite legal but kind of exciting and… oh, okay, screw all that. Celebration. In his quarters. That's important right now. Yeah.


	23. I'm Out in Space

**A/N:** Okay, so it's probably not the _Minor Characters_ chapter that you've been expecting but I'm having a little SGA rewatch and when _Letters From Pegasus_ ran, this kind of popped up. It contains _massive_ spoilers for _Minor Characters_ so everyone who wants to avoid these, please back off immediatedly. Everyone else who'd like a glimpse into what SG10's been up to during the first SGA season and doesn't mind spoilers... enjoy :)

* * *

**I'm Out in Space**

"_All I had to do was  
Pick up the phone  
I'm out in space  
Trying to talk to someone  
Yeah, we're living in  
In a modern world."_

_Electric Light Orchestra, "Calling America"_

You know, it's days like today that I really regret letting the Major drag me all the way from Hurlburt to Area 51. There is absolutely _jack_ to do on this base and honestly, I'm starting to consider a reenactment of the fucking Folsom Prison Blues in Reno. I _used_ to be really good at waiting out even weeks of stretches with nothing to do but sit and wait but it's been… _months_ now since we quit the SGC for a transfer to AFSOC at Hurlburt after Laura died and then another transfer to Area 51 when they wouldn't stop badgering us for information on our last posting. The Major didn't take really well to it.

Anyway… it's fucking _dull_ out here and you can mix up chemicals until they make boom only so often before even that becomes boring. I'm pretty sure the Major feels the same way, even though they put him in electronic countermeasures as soon as they could get their hands on him. I _know_ that he's been trying to get into Area 51's networks even since before he knew that there actually was something worth getting in for and they probably figured that it was better to have him on their side. It's _always_ better to have him on your side.

But damn I just wish… "Hey, Dee. You got a minute?"

Huh? Oh right, the Major's standing in the frame of the lab door and just asked me something. I resist clearing my throat and look up from the data sheet that I'd been trying to analyze. "Sure, sir, what is it?"

"Look at your e-mails." What… oh right. Been at least three hours since I had a look at them. I shut the alarm off because I wanted to get some fucking work done and… what does "data burst from Atlantis" mean?

"Uh, sir… is that what I think it is?" I look up at him and he runs a hand over his face.

It takes another minute until he nods, and only now I realize that he looks like he just saw a ghost. Honestly, it _could_ be the bad lighting in the lab but I'm pretty sure he's all pale and everything. And are those dark rings under his eyes? "I wouldn't know. Haven't opened mine yet."

Right. Coward. I click open mine, noting the attachment but concentrating on the text first.

_To the recipients of this e-mail,_

_Today we have received a data burst from Atlantis. It was a super compressed cluster of video messages from the expedition members. We have decrypted and decompressed the data. In the attachment, you will find the video that is intended for you. If you erroneously received a video that is addressed to someone else, please contact us immediately and we will sort it out._

_Sincerely,_

_Walter Harriman, CMSGT, USAF_

A… video message? I look at him again and he just shrugs, looking pretty much forlorn. Seeing as we both only know one person in the entire Atlantis expedition, we know exactly who our message is from. I have a look around the lab. Right now I'm alone but the rest is on their lunch break and could be back any time. Well… I do have a lot of overtime logged, anyway. "Sir… how about we take this to my quarters?"

He simply nods, as if he expected me to make that suggestion. I just hope he cleared that with Lieutenant Colonel Jarpeth, his superior officer. Ever since Laura died he became… kind of reckless, or maybe more like disinterested in his superior's good graces. He's had a disobedient streak since I first got to know him but when he disobeyed, it always was for a reason. Not because he just didn't give a fuck about what his superiors think about him. "Don't worry, Sergeant, Jarpeth gave me the rest of the day off. Something about grabbing the sleep I forwent in the last couple weeks or something."

Rrright.

Well. I type a short e-mail to Dr. Mariana, the lab's head and then grab my laptop and coffee cup to make for my quarters. Thankfully, it's lunch break so the barracks aren't as crowded as in the evening and we get to my quarters without people asking us to join any number of community activity you can think up in the middle of the fucking desert. We plunk down on my couch, the laptop on the coffee table in front of us.

So. Here goes nothing, I guess.

"_Hey Team_," holy fucking crap. Instinctively, I hit pause and the Major and I just wordlessly stare at each other. I mean, I _knew_ what was coming but to see her again after over a year and be greeted as if it's only been a few weeks… that's so weird I don't have any words. And the Major… God, I don't think I wanna go there.

Which is why it surprises me a little that he's so fast with hitting play again. "_How are you? Alright, stupid question, you can't answer._" Yeah, that sounds like our little Lieutenant, even though she doesn't quite look like her anymore. Just… older, somehow. "_Anyway, I just wanted to say that I hope that you're all okay and that the Major hasn't gotten any of you killed._" Shit. _Shit shit shit_. She still doesn't know about Laura. Of _course_ she doesn't know about Laura and even though I'm aware of that there's a moment where I just want to _strangle_ her for being so damn casual about it. The Major… "_I'm alright, apart from the impending danger of space vampires bombing this city into…_"

Huh, what?

"_Hold on a minute, Dr. Weir said…_" Seriously, sir? Did you just go into jealousy mode, just because there's a male voice from behind the camera?

Reece, in the video, rolls her eyes. "_This goes to my SGC team, Aiden. Security clearance isn't an issue._" Okay, so she's on first name basis with the guy behind the camera. Big deal, sir. Still no need to get jealous.

"_Yeah, but… don't you want to send anything to your family?_" Aiden seems genuinely flabbergasted. So apparently, Aiden doesn't know her well enough to know that essentially, she doesn't _have_…

"_That team _is_ my family._" Oh. I… honestly didn't expect that one. And from the look of it, the Major didn't either. So far he hasn't said anything but if I'd had to hazard a guess, I'd say that for some reason, that sentence got him harder than the one about him not having any of us gotten killed yet.

For a moment, Aiden is silent. Then, "_Right_."

Reece, on her side of the camera, looks a little annoyed now and I'm not sure if it's the MARPAT camos or the lighting or anything but… she looks as if she's much more aware of her rank than she was the SGC. "_Can I proceed now?_"

"_Sure, uh, knock yourself out._" At that, she rolls her eyes again.

Then she continues, "_Thank you. Anyway… where was I?_" I distinctly remember something about, "_Oh yeah, the space vampires bent on bombing this city into rubble_." Yes, that. Wait, _what_? "_Right now, they're kind of our biggest problem but don't let that faze you._" Sure, no, why not. "_We've been through worse here, I guess._" You _guess_? "_Or maybe we haven't but you all trained me well and the people here really are the best and brightest and it's, as the Major always likes to say, gonna be a piece of cake._"

"Did she just say space vampires, Dee?" The Major hit pause and she's frozen in mid movement, imitating the look on the Major's face when he tells you that something's gonna be a piece of cake pretty well. He's staring right at my laptop's screen but I'm not sure what he's seeing there.

I take a deep breath. "Yes, sir, I believe so."

"_Why_ in God's fucking name did she want to go there when there are _fucking space vampires_?" Right, so apparently, he still hasn't forgiven her for accepting a transfer to the Atlantis Expedition. Jeez, that man really can hold a fucking grudge.

"You know, sir… I don't think anyone knew about the space vampires when they went to Atlantis." Actually, they didn't know anything but I sure as hell hope he's not going to point that out to me.

Thank God, he just gives me one of his _looks_ that say very loud and clearly, "I hope you're aware of the bullshit you just said" and hits the play button again. Right.

"_You really think so?_" Aiden, behind the camera doesn't seem to be very convinced of the Major's favorite saying. To be honest, there yet has to be an instance when I am convinced of it.

She raises her eyebrow and is it just me or did the Major just discretely hide how that turned him on? "_What, you don't?_" Then she looks back into the camera and he still seems a little… uncomfortable? "_Okay, apparently, Lieutenant Ford here_ doesn't _think so_ but _then again, he's not SGC so there._" Apparently, that's a familiar argument between them and sir, there's no need to look so relieved at Aiden turning out to be one of the fresh faced Marines being trained at the SGC for their trip to the Pegasus Galaxy that Reece only had some eyerolling and exasperation left for.

"_Anyway, it's been an awesome ride here so far and the team that I'm usually attached to is alright._" Mh. Does that mean that she doesn't actually have a regular team there? It is kind of ridiculous how relieved that makes me. "_They're not you but they're okay. I learned a shit ton of new languages and I could actually get to pass on some of skills you helped me acquire._"

She looks really excited now and I realize that even though she might look older and more mature, this posting seems to have her done a world of good. She sounds so much more self-confident now, too. "_I know that the Major won't like to hear it but… the decision to come here was the best one I could have made._" Okay, except when she has to directly address issues that were left unfinished between her and the Major. Somehow, it's good to know that some things never change. "_Now…_"

"_You got two more minutes._" There's that annoyance at being interrupted again and it starts to figure. She might not be big on the usual blustering and chest beating that Marines like to have going on but she does seem to have internalized that she's more experienced than and senior to Ford, even though they still hold the same rank.

"Thank _you Aiden._" Yep, just like I thought. "_Okay, you heard the man. I'd just like to personally address each of you now_." Oh, huh, really? "_So… Dee, you're first._" I… am? "_Thank you for everything you taught me, from explosives to infiltration. I probably wouldn't have been able to survive here without that._" I… honestly don't know what to say to that. I look at the Major and he actually slaps me on the shoulder. As if to thank me too for teaching her all of that. Huh.

"_And I… you know, I just wondered if you and Laura ever… well, you know what I mean._" What? I… what? How did she… I mean… what? "_I just want you to be happy so if you haven't… you know, just do it. Whatever makes you happy._"

I have to pause the video, swallowing against the big lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. I look at the Major and I'm pretty sure that he's thinking back to that not exactly pleasant encounter at Hurlburt that we had about his behavior after Laura died. I'd wanted him to stop moping around and start being that badass soldier that I knew him to be again and he'd thought I didn't care about Laura being dead and well… let's say we settled it like men.

So, with the biggest amount of stupidity possible, as both Laura and Reece would have said.

I look at him again and he questioningly raises his eyebrow, asking me if I want to continue. The answer is definitely no, feeling as if someone just stabbed me and twisted a knife when Reece told me to act upon my feelings for Laura before it was too late and not even being able to be pissed off at her for that because dammit, she doesn't even know that her best friend has been dead for months now. I hit the play button anyway.

"_Laura, if you haven't done so yet, give that man a chance._" I'm not sure if she'd have needed that encouragement, to be honest. Two days before she died, we'd kind of somehow maybe agreed to something sort of like a date. And then she'd sacrificed herself on a planet full of goa'uld and stayed behind to cover our retreat and all we found of her when we went back where the charred remains of her uniform and her dog tags. Swallowing is starting to become an issue for me. Does feel more like choking now.

"_And do cut the Major some slack sometimes. We both know what an idiot he sometimes can be and he just needs someone to look out for him._" I expect him to hit pause and gripe about how she became insubordinate and delusional during her time in Atlantis but all he does is stare right at the monitor, only occasionally blinking. I'm wondering what's hurting him more; hearing her talk as if Laura's still alive or telling us effectively that she worries about him. "_You and Dee are probably best qualified to do that so I'm counting on you._" And we haven't let you down so far. I just wish though it hadn't taken the ultimate sacrifice to achieve that.

There's a pause now and for a moment I wonder if the video is having issues but then I realize that she became very quiet and that there's something like shame and insecurity in her face. And… pain? "_And last but not least… the Major. Sir, I… you're probably still pissed at me and I guess I understand that I have to accept it but just let me say that…_" she takes a deep breath and the pain I thought I'd only imagined a moment before is fully visible now and damn, sir, are you about to fucking tear up on me? "_For what it's worth, sir, I'm sorry for never giving you the chance to say your piece. I… Well, uh, I just wanted to say…_"

The silence after that seems to be excruciating, just like watching her squirm in her chair and looking anywhere but the camera… and watching the Major grip the fabric of his trouser's leg really hard, as he needs to keep himself from reaching out and touch the screen or something. This is really, really bad.

"_Make up your mind, Maureen._" To be honest, I'm almost thankful to Ford for breaking up the silence and quietly reminding her that she's only got a few seconds of video left.

"_Fuck you, Aiden._" Funny enough, she seems to be, too, even despite her rather harsh words. But they lacked any real bite and you could see it in her eyes, just for a moment, that he gave her something else to think about than whatever she wanted to but couldn't tell the Major. "_All I wanted to say… ah, yeah, uh, Laura!_" Huh? "_If we ever see each other again, I'll totally kick your ass if the first thing you give me_ isn't _the next Harry Potter book. I'm being serious here._" Oh, Maureen.

_Oh, Maureen_.

Strangely, the Major seems to be thinking the same, shaking his head, his grip relaxing a little and actually snorting under his breath at Ford saying a little incredulously, "_Really? Harry Potter?_"

There's indignation in her face now, the same that she always showed when Laura was making fun of her interest in a children's book series. "_I take my obsessions _very_ serious, Lieutenant Ford._" Then she gets serious again, looking back directly into the camera. "_Anyway… goodbye, guys. I hope to see you again soon but if… if I don't… it's been an honor serving with you and serving here and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I'd never have gotten as far as here without you. Thank you and… farewell, guys. I'll see you on the other side!_"

"_Aaand… we're out._" With that, the video ends, leaving behind only static for a second or two and then silence. There's the slight humming of the laptop and the whirring of the air condition but other than that… God.

Then, after another minute or so, the Major blinks and looks at me. "She was being serious about the space vampires hell bent on destroying the city, wasn't she?"

Oh for the love of… well. I clear my throat. "Yes, sir, I believe she was."

He blinks again. "She's… she's gonna be all alone over there, fighting space vampires." No, she's not, sir. She'll be with her Atlantis team and the rest of the expedition members. She'll be fine.

I decide to remind him of that, knowing it's probably futile, anyway. "No, sir. Not alone."

"She's got no team, Sergeant." Yes, she does. Didn't you _listen_? "She doesn't have _us_." Well. No. She doesn't. And she doesn't… she doesn't have _you_. That's what you can't say out loud, isn't it?

I'm almost tempted to say something to that effect but then the Major's Blackberry makes itself known and after a moment's hesitation, he takes it out, looking strangely like Reece in his annoyance and only now I realize why that look on her face struck me so odd. Good God.

He takes a moment before looking up, still frowning. Instead of speaking, he just holds the thing out to me and a little weirded out I take it. There's an e-mail on the display, sender being a certain e. lorne -at- sgc. usaf. mil. I frown. Now what… holy shit.

_Hey idiot,_

_They're putting together a strike force to reinforce the Atlantis Expedition and you and your sergeant are gonna be a part of it, no buts allowed. I put in your names as suggestion to Landry and O'Neill and don't you __dare__ saying no. If you do, I'll personally have them beam me down to Nevada to kick your asses back to Colorado. Trust me, you don't want that to happen, so get ready for your marching orders. They should arrive tonight or tomorrow morning so I suggest you start packing. It's gonna be a long ride and I personally do not want to spend all that time with you two bored out of your wits on a space ship. I'll see you as soon as you get on the Daedalus._

_One more kick in the ass,_

_Evan_

_PS.: I was being serious about coming down to Nevada. Don't test me._

Whoa. That. _Whoa_. "He's _really_ serious about this, isn't he, sir?"

The Major just rolls his eyes, slowly being back to his usual obnoxious self and boy, am I relieved to see that. "No kidding." So, what are we gonna do now? "Okay, you start packing and I…" Yes, sir? "I need to go to Rachel. I need to organize a couple things." Organize a couple things, mhm. Of course.

"Sir, you might want to wait until later tonight." He's looking at me like he has no idea what I'm talking about and I'm almost sure he doesn't. I can't help and grin a little. "_Half-Blood Prince_ won't be sold until after midnight tonight." Because I'm pretty sure that's what he'd wanted to "organize".

Aaand, "Right. Uh. Anyway… get packing. I'm gonna see where those marching orders are."

And with that, he's gone like a bat out of hell, probably to harass the next best personnel officer into making those orders appear out of thing air and well… I'm not sure who to be more grateful to. Reece, Lorne or the space vampires. It's not really important anyway because thank _God_ at least the Major is back in all his glory. You have _no_ idea for how long I've had to wait for that.

So, well, anyway… I guess it's off to Pegasus now. I just wish I could tell Laura about that. I wish I could _take her with us_ but as it is, I'll at least finally be able to get the things she left for Reece to their rightful owner. It's the least I can do, for the both of them. And myself. At least that.


End file.
